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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1946298
A poem when my last nerve felt 'stepped on' and I had given up complaining for lent....
Impatience waits
drumming fingers
on glass-covered table
with smudged prints
of forever.

Reason searches
prudent rags,
salvaged strips soaked
in window
cleaner.

Annoyance stomps
shattering glass
with pointed heel marks
in sanded pine tabletop
of enough.
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