NaPoWriMo 2026 Day 10

 A poem of grief with rhetorical questions and a little rhetoric, 

An onion skin peeled 

leads to another onion skin 

not quite dry. The one 

that will make you cry.


Why do I go from tapping my toe 

to a song to the tears 

running down my face? 

Both are universal responses. 

When will this end? 

Like the onion in evolves over time.


The knife cuts the skin, 

blood spills like onion juice. 

Both burn.

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