***** LAUNDRY

In the middle of the floor
Lies a pile of clothes
*****, unwashed
Like a body
Without a soul

What we make of ourselves
When we lose ourselves
When we lose our souls
Before death takes over
What do we hold so dear

I am like you
Always counting my winnings
Who cares what all that we have lost
Along the way
Time to move on
And find closure
They say

I laugh at myself
To myself
The pain
You will forget it soon

Get over it, they say
But it will linger till the day
They cut off your clothes
And drop them on the floor
M. N. R.
02 MAY 2021