Your Poetry Dot Com - That Frying Pan is Bent

That frying pan is bent,
the trash is spilled again
the dog has made it worse-
left alone to fend.
That antique leather table
now three legged not four-
I remember we paid twenty
laughing “It's worth so much more!”
The Shoji screen hand painted
rice paper now all ripped,
has joined the group of objects
on the drunken broken list.
Things we paid money for
are the cheapest things we own,
the memories that we've ruined
are piling in our home.
Smiles never realized
Laughter unremembered-
a thousand drinks and dollars,
our lives boozily dismembered.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ invierno