it feels wrong
tainted, rotting
this ground i stand on
is disgusting
i must clean
pick it up and throw it away
i say its wrong
but all they say is "its okay"
i must clean
whatever filth is on top
i know i have to do it
but all they say is that i have to stop
i can't stop
i can't sit still
it keeps on growing
this corrupted landfill
and so i clean and clean
until it's all sparkling white
and i can finally rest
without a stain in sight
YOU ARE READING
Raindrops
Poetry"Will you ever hear me in the rain?" "...?" ***** #157 in Poetry February 12, 2016 #86 in Poetry February 14, 2016
