Maid Poem by Missy Lynn
Maid
Beyond the night shift
Mornings at noon
And the boredom lies there
You come in, as always
In that room seems there seems to
Lay a different kind of ashtray
In hand new clean sheets
Whiter then the clouds
Of Midwestern sky
Until you realize
Someone still sleeps
Do not disturb sign inside
And sleeping is a man
Who met his fate with
A pistol
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4/25/2024 3:16:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
