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Oct 2015
I rub my fingers back and fourth,
brush the dust off of the books,
try to wash the stained pots and pans,
swing on a swing,
it creeks as if its in pain,
hopping off,
find a rusty nail,
through it into the sewer,
then it makes a sharp pling,
I try to scrub you off,
you create a deathly smell,
I throw the brush down,
scream, and attempt again,
I find an old chess,
but I can't open it,
the rust binds the lock together,
I get a new key from the locksmith,
its stuck inside the lock,
its completely broken inside,
a pile of rust in the corner,
inside a dump,
I feel like rust,
I just can't come off.
Written by
Hello World
   mike dm
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