Monday 29 April 2013

THE BREATH

Whose breath this is I think I know
Foul fumes waft'ng in the air it blows.

It hits me hard a wondrous stench,
My nostrils flare out in surprise.

Teeth unbrushed that horrible wrench,
The smell of sweat on the warm bench.

It smells like rotten eggs purée
Mashed broccoli and green peas

Cream of beef chicken breast brûlée
I wonder what was his entrée

I'm certain it was not real food
His gums have turned a shade of grey.

His presence alters my great mood
As I see every crumb unchewed.

And pray his mouth stays shut for good.
And pray his mouth stays shut FOR GOOD!



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