A BAR OF SOAP

If a bar of soap could feel
Of what would it speak?
To wake up each day
Feeling less than yesterday
To watch itself diminish
Daily, layer by layer
Bubble by bubble
As it bobbles up and down
Upon a human skin
(Through creases and bushes
Corners and dark places)
Till it's name fades away
And. A bar becomes a mush
And a mush becomes a blotch
And a blotch becomes and inch
That's washed down a sink
And ceases to exist

If a bar of soap has life
would it feel as it dies
In it's very short sojourn
Of a week, or maybe two
Never truly loved, only used
And knowing when he's gone
Its certain None will mourn
And as soon as morning comes
A new bar waits to take his place.