This Faucet is on the Fritz
BY Adrian
This faucet is on the fritz.
Drip, Drip, Drip,
Every morning another drip.
The water gathers at the tip,
gaining weight with every sip.
This house is such a sandbox
where my head is buried beneath the foundation.
I cut and tear the wallpaper
and yank away the carpet,
attempting to deface this monster.
This car is another cut.
Tut, Tut, Tut,
Every day another tut.
The fumes escape out the butt,
burning power with every putt.
There beyond the yellow brick
lies a world far beyond my fingertips.
I bang and bash the engine
and kick the treadless tires,
hoping to jump-start this beast.
With every turn of the wrench,
the water flows faster.
With every twist of a bolt,
the engine roars louder.
The only sounds I hear
are
drip, drip, drip
and
tut, tut, tut.
**** AUTHOR'S NOTE ****
I changed a few words, revised some verb tenses, took out a stanza, and added two more stanzas! I'm happier with it now. I think it makes more sense.
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