Friday, June 10, 2016

Story-a-day - Day Twenty Nine

This post is part of a series of short stories and poems.

Day Twenty Nine

My nose is a leaky old faucet
'Cause it lives on the verge of a drip
And if given the choice I would toss it
Put a new one above my top lip
And my eyes are a puddle just waiting
To spill down my cheeks on my shirt
Tell whoever is cutting their gosh-darn spring grass
That on them I'll be putting the hurt
But I must say the worst is the sneezing
'Cause it taunts and teases, it's true
And more often than not you are holding back snot
While you hope that the sneeze gods grant your ACHOO!

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