Glen Martin Fitch
ON MY KINDNESS
When I consider
how our income's spent
we wander far and wide,
or find receipts and bills
you tried to hide from me,
I wonder where our money went.
Good reasons for each purchase
if I object or
whine or tease or chide.
The swelling of our debt
we've both denied.
I'm sure we're doomed.
Yet how can I prevent you
we simply do not need?
It's my fault too,
I try my best to be supportive,
yet our sorry state,
grows worse each day
with greater speed.
In line I am as guilty as the rest.
They also shop
who only hold and wait.
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Comments about this poem (ON MY KINDNESS by Glen Martin Fitch )
- Descent Into Hate, Wilma Horne
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- Traveler, Fariza Nur Shabrina
- Pockets Of Lace, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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- Cry of the Unwanted, Fariza Nur Shabrina
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