The Washing Machine Poem by Abhinit Chute (abz)

It started as the water was poured down;
With the powder disguised in white..
The protectors of the human skin were dumped..
The meter twisted by 90,
They were whirling and spinning inside the machine,
Deeply engrossed in the motion;
With a sound of splash..
The bubbles existing for a blink of an eye,
Having their rebirths in the fraction of a second..
The timer explains, it's half done;
To signify the colour in the dirt of the water..
To alarm the deeply engrossed observer
And wake him up again..