My Sticky Burden

Poetry and Prose

It’s all over my hands,

It’s even under my nails.

Nothing removes it,

everything fails.

I washed and I washed,

there’s no sign it’s budging.

Actually, it’s getting worse,

it’s definitely smudging.

It’s a strange problem to have,

and not many do.

Have a problem like this,

on not one hand but two.

I’m the first to admit,

I have egg on my face.

It’s definitely my fault,

for leaving the race.

It’s my burden to bear,

as this life demands.

To figure out what to do…

With too much time on my hands.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s