At The Laundromat Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
At The Laundromat
Stationed in a little room, looking around at four walls, noticing every little detail as I take it all in.
Cramped, dirty, messy, filled with used appliances, nothing in it's place.
Being used as a home away from home by an illegal mexican woman.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: home,messy,woman
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8/29/2026 4:30:42 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
