It drips from the counter
One drop at a time
A glass that stood tall
Now rolls on its side
To smash on the floor
With the spilled milk it poured
If it’s not swept in time
There’ll be tears, blood, and more
A Poetic Dive into the Creative Unconscious
It drips from the counter
One drop at a time
A glass that stood tall
Now rolls on its side
To smash on the floor
With the spilled milk it poured
If it’s not swept in time
There’ll be tears, blood, and more