Poetric

Every day The clothes pile up With a family of five

The shirts And the shorts (Thank goodness it's nearly summer) And the socks

And the underwear God, the underwear

I wonder what this pile would weigh If I could get it onto a scale If ever it could be contained In that manner

Does it even make sense To find the mass of cloth To tally it like a body or an ingredient

Some have simplified Identical colors Identical garments Identical days Identical nights

But still they have to wash dry fold repeat

But still they have to

#Poetry