Poem Sixteen ~ Rug Burns

Rugs can burn hotter than any blue flame.
Rugs sting harder than any buzzing wasp.

My knees are shaking beneath my weight.
How much longer until I start crying in pain?

The cold central air gives me goosebumps.
I wish I could put my shirt back about now.

The fresh holes in my jeans are welcome.
Rugs still burn hotter than any blue flame.

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