St. Ann, Has Called Me Back
Upon my return
To an old torn and tattered grade school
With drab brown floor tiles
As worn as a dinosaurs bones
I stumbled into the custodians closet
The dusty, dirty mophead
Hung there, still
From five years gone by
Expeditiously, I rustled on a new head
Inserting a new handle, into action
My goal, a glossy sheen and satisfaction
Soaking the head, with fresh wax
I slipped and slithered a few new coats
On the old floor
Through all the cracks
A once depleted hall
Returned to glory
The students, need not worry
Cleanliness has returned
To a lady saints house
Quiet as a mouse
poem by Matt Mondschein
Added by Poetry Lover
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