The Tap
P Pradip Chattopadhyay
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The leaking tap dripped all night
Tip tip tip
Sleep took a flight
Dream couldn’t reap!
First thing next morn
A plumber I must call
How I scorn
The goddamned tap its nightlong fall!
Poor tap has a mind of its own
Screwed at men’s free will
Left in dripping groan
Its pain who can feel!
Yet it doesn’t bend
Will fill the bucket
When the plumber will mend
Valve and socket!
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş