Thoughts of a Desecrated Woman

Pots and Pans desecrate the sounds of love, and the way they glow takes my breath away. And, the clank clank when spoons bang against empty plates, makes a good woman cry. Shallow tongues lap at the luxuries around them, and like dogs they flee to a smaller place. To hide is to die, and to die is to hide away from the ever-growing light shining into your eyes. To see the end is the light. Should the wives and the mothers change the tune coming from their heads, then the sounds of love will continue to diminish, and the clank clank will cease, and the tongues that speak the words will be cut. The music and the show must play on, even if there is no end in sight.



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this is not in standard form- it's more "free form"
basically, I don't really care lol
But I wanna know if you do!

I like it!

"i liked it"

VERY COOL" MY E-MAIL BEGINS WITH POTS N PANS

Well, since you asked...

Love the piece. Just not feeling the paragraph format. The write is too good be congested into one paragraph. That's my opinion.

I gathered the gist of it...it was rather enlightening.