They made me a tiny violin.
Meaning,
they did not make me a gift
of a tiny violin.
No.
I am now a violin.
Tiny,
Screeching.
And there's a dreadful
din of caterwauling
coming from the alley
accompanying me.
I finally don't feel lonely.
This is part of a series of horrible poems that I'm writing as a 2014 New Years Resolution.
08 October 2014
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
This is not horrible. You are lovely E and everything that comes from you is lovely too.
ReplyDelete