Posted in Poems & Stories

Bath Time Head Case

Some days I don’t bathe
And really that’s okay.
Why should I waste
This precious water away?

Though on other days,
From under the sun’s rays,
Crud fills my face
No matter where I play.

But mud pies do not taste,
And soap will not erase
This fast-pasted head case
Of life that is not a race.

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