The Tap Poem by Zoe Krautner

The Tap



The tap drips,
And keeps me awake.

In the morning,
There will be a lake.

For the want of a washer,
The tiles will spoil.

Then for another,
Dale will toil.

Dale could snuff it,
Will his at work.

Dale fit a washer,
Dont be a jerk.

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