Domestic Shades 8

Kitchen Soliloquy

What a hell, life is a failure
You only know my dear platter
How much, how much I suffer
Like these mustards when they splutter
In hot oil browned dark to darker;
And my dear pressure cooker
Don't you know how much anger
Aberrated folks throw on me? This cutter
My enemy very often cuts my finger
Hell, heart is broken.I'm in danger
Stupid spilt oil, I'm skidded with rigour
Down on this dirty floor.
Slippery life with full of fear
Can't get up from under
This kitchen-ware
Slammed, slipped for ever..ever.

poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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