I Write - Decade Edition - Roaring 20's

A Sour Contest

Sour
Power.
Face twists, turns
Eyes bulge, tongue yearns
To be cleansed, taste buds
Settle doused with bland spuds.
Eyes that water, tears slip out,
I shake my head and now bow out.

8 line Eight-ette
Rhyme: aabbccdd

Notes ▼

Written for "EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT " 
Prompt: Write a sour poem.
Used the form of the week from "~ The Poet's Place Cafe~"