Annicita's Poetry, Short Stories & Thoughts: Revolving Door Dad

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Sunday, April 25, 2010

Revolving Door Dad

Rush hour Frantic rushing Plles of dishes Placed haphazardly in gray tubs Scrub...scrub Line 'em up Push 'em through Empty a rack Start all over Rush hour seems endless Finally as energy reserves dwindle Rush hour ends The last rack pushed through Clean the sink Off all the scraped chees and sauce... Sign in to see full entry.

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