The Laundry

Lyrics:

© Grathy
The whites and colors have been washed together, but the water is far too hot. Some of the colors are bleeding, as they thrash around in turbulence, agitation, pulling out their threads and stretching their seams.

The pile is put in the dryer, and the button is pushed. The frayed materials tear and strain against themselves… too hot, too hot.

The garments are shrinking, sweating, yanking back and forth and banging against the drum until the cycle is over.

They are then dumped into a basket, and attempt to be sorted and folded back into their original shapes.

But it’s too late…