Kitchen Hand

Ill
But strong willed
A trial of bills
She has to pay
Washes dishes night and day
Something she said the other day...

(I wish I could
Dream what I may
Do what I please
Don’t let me wash away)

Spent her time in front of a sink
But at night, she sinks in ink,
Brush up a page with her aching fingertips
Her worst enemy is not a stain, on that dish,
But on her mind and how it thinks
"I have seen worse", She lied in vain,
Falling apart like a shooting star in decay...

(I wish I could
Dream what I may
Do what I please
Don’t let me wash away)

Over-worked and underpaid these battered souls
I wish had better rhymes than what I hold
So their untold tales would have a place
Than just a same old staring sinkhole...

http://poeticeescape.blogspot.com.au/2014/09/kitchen-hand.html