Writing Or Cleaning

Which is my favorite, think you can guess?
Writing a poem or cleaning a mess?

Yea, I’ll confess, I have to clean too.
Living with dogs my house is a zoo.

Two of these girls and plenty of hair
Me with a broom and a quizzical stare.

I barely get done and more dirt comes in.
I’m fighting a battle that I’ll never win.

That’s the beginning of all my heartaches.
What could be next? My freezer could break…

Make no mistake; it’s not very old
But something is wrong when ice creams not cold.

Holding my nose I took out the meat
And ice cream and veggies I wanted to eat.

The freezer and fridge were emptied ‘til bare
I grumpily moaned that this isn’t fair.

But I’m quite aware when I start to complain
My life isn’t bad; I’m simply a pain.

There’s nothing to gain from getting upset,
Not by a freezer or sweet, dirty pet.

Please don’t forget it the next time you whine…
You’re probably lucky with everything fine.


A little disclaimer – when I start writing, I never know the beginning or ending, and rarely the middle.

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