Four toothbrushes. One,/
blue, mine. Three, red, dad’s. Why did/
he grab the blue one?
Four toothbrushes. One,/
blue, mine. Three, red, dad’s. Why did/
he grab the blue one?
Tags:CyranoWriter, Dad, dad's toothbrush, get your own, haiku, has he been using my toothbrush, ImproVerse haiku, Kuhns, my toothbrush, poems, poet David Kuhns, Poetic Lament, Poetry, revolutionary poetry, Wisconsin lake toothbrush, working through issues, wrong toothbrush, www.cyranowriter.com
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