Love Is A Dishevelled House

~ Frank Solanki

Where smelly socks sit on the bed
On the floor’s an intricate trail
Of wrappers and crumbs of bread

Wet towels lie on the ebony couch
Flies zip around the sordid walls
On the formerly white pillow covers
Food stains establish their stalls

Red ants greet you in the morning
Wish you the best with a sting
They sit down on the dinner table
Next to you in the evening

Fresh air is on a suicide mission
When it happens to infiltrate
The interiors of the house only
To gasp, choke and suffocate

You tidy your hair with your hand
When you fail to locate your comb
You look around and heave a sigh
For the place you declare a home

Despite the drudgery and filth you
Know there is no exit door
If there was one, you’d likely axe it
This is all you want and more

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Published by Frank Solanki

Making the world a better place one poem at a time.

18 thoughts on “Love Is A Dishevelled House”

              1. Many to the power infinity 😁😁 just check my name in Google then you will understand.Pritilata Nandi 😁😁🤭🤭🤭🤓😀😀😄😄

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