Monday, 9 March 2015

Slice #9: Small Poems

Mugs

Standing still,
In the cupboard,
In the darkness.
Waiting and wishing
for light to seep in.

When the wish,
comes true.
Light seeps in.
The mug is,
carried away.
Held by the snake,
hanging at it's side.

Filled up,
And sipped.
Standing strong.
But with one,
Awift movement,
The mug comes,
Crashing down.


The Floor

Carrying us.
Helping us when,
we run or walk,
skip and crawl.
Jump and fall.
But when we fall,
The floor will
catch us.

They seem,
to do a lot.
And that they,
Need a break.
But really,
They are just,
Lazy walls.

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