Cinnamon Gum
Chewing gum keeps me busy,
but my disused jaws ache.
I sit and I wait
for the day to be over,
the hour to be done.
I sit and I wait on the next morning sun.
I chew cinnamon gum,
and the burn keeps me occupied.
I inhale the sugar-spice scent and I hide
from the day,
the hour,
the next morning sun.
I sit and I wait.
I chew cinnamon gum.
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
ty.ferg
I'm from South Dakota and I love poetry. In every spare moment I am composing lines to new works in my head, and I am always working to gain inspiration from everything around me. I play the piano, guitar, ukulele, banjo, and percussion. I love to draw and I love anything that involves zombies. Someday I will see the world.
View all poems →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.