cooking
melting his favorite hershey kiss chocolate
on top of the radiator
he was "cooking" as per say
he ironed his favorite angry bird t-shirt
at the age of eight
iron burns on his wrist and hand
scars, scars
burns, burns
from playing daddy
scrubbing and cleaning carolina brown rice
over the kitchen sink
for the moment, smell didn't stink
stood over the chair to reach the stove
to cook the rice
that all proudly ate
and then he sat down
found the bible on the counter
read the bible and then pray
dear lord, i want to actually play like an eight year old would
👁 3💬 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.