The Tap Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
The Tap
The leaking tap dripped all night
Tip tip tip
Sleep took a flight
Dream couldn’t reap!
First thing next morn
A plumber I must call
How I scorn
The goddamned tap its nightlong fall!
Poor tap has a mind of its own
Screwed at men’s free will
Left in dripping groan
Its pain who can feel!
Yet it doesn’t bend
Will fill the bucket
When the plumber will mend
Valve and socket!
Even the smallest of things gets the poet's attention. Great!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/4/2024 3:30:58 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I'm sorry for your fitful sleep. But at least we got a funny poem from you because of it.