Birthday Cake
In front of your door
I paced,
Stooped down and retied
My shoelace,
13- the number
That was glazed,
Rung your doorbell since your keys
Had been replaced.
Once the door opens
In a haste,
And you'll stare at it
In amaze,
With a motive of
A nutcase,
I'll smash a birthday cake
Right in your face.
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.