i wash all my clothes,
all of the colors, all of it.
i hang them up in the middle
of a sunny day.
water begins dripping down from the fabric.
the weather's hot, i wait all day—
yet still they are wet.
i let my clothes hanging up
when the rain pours.
i may look like i don't care
but actually i do.
i ask, "what should i wear?"
i overthink about them—
yet still i don't do anything.
i watch leaves fly in a windy day
while also watching my clothes hung up soaked.
they wobble along with the wind,
dripping water splashes the ground,
and the wind makes my skin dry—
yet still my clothes haven't dried.
i smell my damp clothes, it begins to stink
as day by day passes.
some friends say, "wash it again!
get a washing machine!
hang them up properly!"
they keep talking and talking—
yet they don't help me drying the clothes.
i decide to wear my wet clothes
due to the lack of having more.
it stinks, it's uncomfortable,
but then i have no money to buy
the new (and dry) clothes.
i wear them all day, hoping it will dry soon—
yet the time hasn't come.
i do nothing anymore to make them dry.
my friends do nothing anymore also.
no matter what kind of weather that happens:
sunny, cloudy, raining, windy
it never dries.
(Originally written for Exploring Poetry course assignment.)