Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2014
Who is that ******* man that keeps poking his ugly head in my room?
Saying my name like he knows me.
I imagine seeing a face when I came out of the womb; a hairy face with glasses just under his forehead.
That was my Dad.
This ******* man, coming in my room.
Who are you?
Written by
Antonio Poaches  Trenton
(Trenton)   
1.7k
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems