I Really not Know

The sink still is busted, 

dripping chronic drips.

The pipes maladjusted, 

I really not know,

Though, In abundant clouds, 

swarm pestering thrips.

Untouched by misty-shrouds 

of bath while ago.

 Humid air I inhale,

Having to open lips

A razor I avail,

Shaving stubble I grow,

Though slightly my hand slips,

And some blood starts to show.

With towel, I dry face,

Exposing subtle hair strips

With ease, I efface 

Listening to the crow

Accompanied by drips.

Cause? I really not know. 

Reviews

[zainul]

So nice poem in so nice rhyme!
Your lines gives a wonderful message.
If thrips are a common sight in your environment?
"Though, In abundant clouds,
swarm pestering thrips."

[Kenneth Stephen Goodpaster]

Thank you, and they would be in one not very well maintained.

[zainul]

You are most welcome,dear poet :)
Felt your piece as a movie being played in front of my eyes.