Nerves
Nervousness comes.
He comes
with a jitter in his knee.
Chewing on his lips, his nails.
He is never sure
of what he says,
frightened of scoldings,
huddled down in his chair.
Invite him over,
jitters all.
He'll sit down
biting his nails away,
wondering
did I do this right?
This problem?
This question?
This poem?
Will I make it?
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bluebrymilk
I am just a girl, Working as hard as she can. Just that wacky girl, In a frying pan. In my little world, All is very hot. Because in a frying pan, Cold is something we're not.
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