The water in the sink never heats up
And none of our bowls
Will stay on the shelves
A capella echoes in my kitchen
So do screams,
And laughter.
One day they'll paint over my growth
Expecting me to move and grow.
Well I guess I'll buy their house
And measure myself on the Basement wall
And tape my lonely pictures
On the doors.
YOU ARE READING
poetic
Poetryim not very good at poetry, but my goal is to write it until I am. and then after im good at it ill write more poetry because then I'll enjoy doing it
