a room, or a house.
no one
cares.
the driveway fills
with cars,
there's a party going on
all hours.
they're your neighbors, not mine.
it's not their floor,
their walls,
their sink or toilet
that's backed up.
the burned out
bulb
means nothing to them.
that smell in
the floor board.
it could be
a raccoon, who's to
know these things.
we're only here
until the lease runs out.
No comments:
Post a Comment