PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Clenching corners of light, hard desks

with the ink worn fingers that have given out smacks today.



Everyday she cleans them hoping everything will be wiped off

and all her memories will swiftly seep into the drain

flowing down the dirty stream left to infect more soil

where others' toes will dig allowing that depressing virus to enter.



She scrubs and she scrubs

wanting (wishing) it all would drown



But somehow all the pain clogs up the sink

and she has to reach in there, reinfecting herself,

and clean it out.



Sadly, my hands are never clean.