Schnook Poem by shweta khosla
Schnook
I feel as if I am a puddle on the floor.
I am a puddle on the floor.
I have been on the floor for a while now.
I am tired of collecting the drops.
Again and over again and again.
And I just get back there somehow.
Am I the schnook I believe I am?
I probably am a bit worst than that.
When you spill me over, that's when I take a bow.
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4/24/2024 8:02:06 PM # 1.0.0.1119
