A weird preoccupation I cannot ignore
Unable to even handle it
Bits of trash left in a grocery cart
Is something I abhor
My sense of well-being it will thwart.
The next cart in the line of wagons
Had newspapers just tossed in
I start my automatic disgust conduct
Something that just always happens
Then lack of control usually will erupt.
I shove the dirty cart quite fast away
And madly search for an empty one
Or dementedly grab the offending stuff
Tossing it away with great dismay
I stomp off madly with a huff and a puff.
A weird preoccupation I cannot stop
No matter how much I think I should
Grossed out by trash left in store baskets
I cannot handle or let it drop
I always blow my gaskets.
And madly search for an empty one
Or dementedly grab the offending stuff
Tossing it away with great dismay
I stomp off madly with a huff and a puff.
A weird preoccupation I cannot stop
No matter how much I think I should
Grossed out by trash left in store baskets
I cannot handle or let it drop
I always blow my gaskets.
©Corinne Mustafa
March, 2013
March, 2013
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