You can polish yourself until the day you die, but you’ll still be defective.
Here outside my bedroom window it’s a pouring
the rain hitting hard and the lightning striking.
I sit at my computer typing, typing
I hear a shriek so frightening.
Should I get up and see who‘s a knocking?
Someone knocking loudly at my front door
the shriek sounds like a familiar voice
but I sit here at my desk typing, typing
without acknowledging the knocking, knocking.
Creepy and delightful at the same time. Great poem!
Ann Marie (Red) asked me to drop by and I’m glad I did. Consider me a new follower!
I’m glad you like it, thank you! It was so nice of Red to ask you to drop by! Oh, thanks for being a new follower! I welcome you to my world with open arms! :skeleton:
Thank you, Billy! I’m thankful you enjoyed it! 😀
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