A chance encounter,
A new friend, a new horizon,
Changing life's canvas.
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shanmuga priya
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Serving a Burnt dish
At the grocery store, there they are again. The people who come with a hot dish to serve. Shoot their gun at me. A poor little house wife they underestimate. My apron is bulletproof and the bullet bounces right off. I pull the lipstick out of the pocket of the apron. it is actually a one shot pistol. A smaller bullet than theirs that hits them. they cry to everyone about it, leaving out the part where they tried to shoot me with a bigger bullet. They could barely handle the serving of my warm dish after they tried to throw a burnt one at me.
By Seashell Harpspring 4 days ago in Poets
Comments (2)
nice
Great poem of change and newness.