Sundays, should be, a day of rest,
with nothing special, to do! But that's,
not the case with me, as a thorough
cleaning, I have to look forward to.
There was a time, I didn't mind it, but
now, I look at it, with distain. It seems,
I just got finished doing it and now, it's
Sunday, all over again! The weeks just
fly right by, it seems, I just did all my
chores. Now, here I am doing the same
old thing, oh how I detest, the mopping of
floors! There's a lot of things I'd rather do,
but alas, it has to be done. I always liked,
a very clean house, but the older you get,
it no longer, is fun! So I simply take my
time, sit down, go on the computer, to gain
back some zest! After I've gotten my second
wind, now, I'm able to finish the rest! There's
no use to complain, because before you know
it, the week will fly right by. Then, once again,
I'll look at all that has to be done and between
you and me, I could cry!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem