There are times I refuse to wash myself as if I would have the dirt and sweat of that day stay until tomorrow, for each day goes by in dirt and sweat, washed off each evening, with not much thought of what it is I wash off, another day of my life. I should pray with each washing, for I am letting go down the drain a part of me I must miss forever -- bit by bit until I wash my life away, for all I really have to show is this dirt and sweat I cling to as my only evidence of having lived, my one accomplishment and pride. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: SILENCE by THOMAS HOOD MODERN LOVE: 47 by GEORGE MEREDITH TRUST by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE TO ATHENA by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE HUMAN IGNORANCE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 27 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH DELIVER US FROM ... by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR |