hours
Eight hours of everything
in the world there is --
Four more hours ruined
by an additional bread.
Bread?
I meant to say dread.
in the world there is --
Four more hours ruined
by an additional bread.
Bread?
I meant to say dread.
Labels: Bread, Dread, Hours, Short Poems, World
posted by Jon Cone at
5:19 PM
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