Sack The Cook! Poem by Phil Soar

I slept and extra hour or so, and woke up to a smell
I went downstairs and found the veg, was all crinkled to hell
I'd left it in a cooker I would turn on when I should
She tried to do a favour, but the veg smelled like burnt wood

She didn't know it needed stock, so that the veg would cook
But now it was an awful mess, and looked all baked to F***
She tries her best at cooking, but she needs a bit of training
So when we eat, it's cooked complete, and stops us all complaining