Short Ratted Poems

The winter days drag and drag
the frown on my face increasingly sags
turning me into a haggard old hag
my husband continues to nag and nag
he's tired of living in ratted old rags
time is frozen and forever lags
this season is one big snag after snag
 
by: Virginia Frayer...

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My brain feels scattered, ratted with knots.
Too many cross-talks, can't focus on thoughts.

So I'll put it away, away in this box.
And I'll strap it in with a chain and some locks.
Maybe then the rocks in my socks will get lost.

Really I'm doing it, I'm hiding away.
No matter the cost, it's worth it to stay
Inside of this box, I won't be missed anyway.

Finally maybe, I could make the voice stop.
If I just lock my brain, away in this box....

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