Saturday, July 24, 2010

Inside My Purse

I am no poet. But every once and I while, for my own pleasure, I like to attempt. I don't ever allow anyone but my children to read them. This one, however, is #1 on a writing site I belong to. So I figured, if everyone else likes it...oh, and it's my son's favorite! Just one more thing: The title is one in which the site provides and the writer simply adds their creativity~

Inside my purse is a scary place
the scariest place I know.
Got things in there that growl and moan
things that have hair that grows. (I know, I've seen it)

Is that makeup I see? Lipstick perhaps?
or something I was planning to eat?
And what's that ticking noise I hear?
My son's wind up toy with feet? (I truly hope so)

Every once and a while I have to go in
searching for a license or floss.
But damned if sometimes I don't pull out
a clump of hair or is it moss? (I just tossed it back)

It's a love/hate relationship I have with my purse
I love to spend money on them.
I love the styles, the way that they look
With the new outfit I bought for the gym. (Hey, a girl should always look good)

The bigger the bag the scarier it gets
with the bottom never to be felt
I just have one thing more to say...
If I'm not out in a minute...send help.

No comments:

Post a Comment