John Lyday - Disjointed

My pencil does not fit the sharpener.
Although I can expose a little lead,
the tip is flat and wears out quickly.
A dull tip pencil can describe my head.

The faucet on my sink has started leaking.
The drip upon the porcelain has stained.
I’d fix it or I could request a plumber.
A plumber cannot remedy my pain.

The tires on my auto need adjustment.
The threads upon the side are wearing thin.
Unsafe, I risk a blowout when I drive it.
I feel I could explode within my skin.

The seal on my window is disjointed.
The chilly air of life seeps inside.
For warmth I turn up, all the way, my heater.
I crawl inside a blanket just to hide.

06/08/09

John Lyday

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/disjointed-3/