What could be better?
Your hands holding a love letter
You wrote the words, took the time
to set down our truth, speak the sublime.
Our gift, meant to last forever
Beyond your life or mine.
Martha
Friday, August 21, 2009
Seven O'Clock
Seven o'clock and where is that sock?!
I hate myself
Every morning I dither
6:30 the radio screams!
I shut it off, just like my mother
Not now, I whine -- I still have time
It just can't be . . . seven o'clock!
Where is that damned sock?!
Agh there on my foot,
What else could go wrong?
But, haha, seems I made it again
I knew it all along
I can still do it
Just.
Martha
I hate myself
Every morning I dither
6:30 the radio screams!
I shut it off, just like my mother
Not now, I whine -- I still have time
It just can't be . . . seven o'clock!
Where is that damned sock?!
Agh there on my foot,
What else could go wrong?
But, haha, seems I made it again
I knew it all along
I can still do it
Just.
Martha
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