the critical voice that keeps on biting

I fill in an online form.

The missed bit just keeps on repeating.

I paint a wall white-as-white brilliant.

The grey bit’s still pale and bleating.

I cook with a heart full of herbs.

The dish, I end up overheating.

I vigorously vacuum the floor.

My nose, the dust motes keep teasing.

I bear my pure soul on the page.

The sneers, they stop my pulse beating.

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2 thoughts on “the critical voice that keeps on biting

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