I entered the washroom, sinful
I cleanse my hands, thrice
The slaps I slapped, healed
The things I stole, returned
I rinse my mouth, thrice
All the swears I said, forgotten
All the lies I intended, forgiven
I wash my face, thrice
All the immoral I’ve seen, ignored
The scornful looks I give, repented
I wash my legs, thrice
The things I’ve hidden beneath, revealed
The things I’ve kicked behind, discovered
I walk out of the washroom, as a new born soul
DECEMBER 28,2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good poem. One has to change for the better. As salvation s to a christian so is the washroom to the poet. Well, it all depends with one's defination. Good symbolism there. Let me rush to the 'washroom'!