Poetric

Every day
The clothes pile up
With a family of five

The shirts
And the shorts
(Thank goodness it's nearly summer)
And the socks

And the underwear
God, the underwear

I wonder what this pile would weigh
If I could get it onto a scale
If ever it could be contained
In that manner

Does it even make sense
To find the mass of cloth
To tally it like a body or an ingredient

Some have simplified
Identical colors
Identical garments
Identical days
Identical nights

But still they have to wash
dry
fold
repeat

But still they have to

#Poetry