Mess. Poem by Lizzy Tomlinson

Mess.



Going into the kitchen,
Fills one with dismay,
'Cause the worktops,
They need clearing,
About twenty times a day.
Neither of ones children,
Ever stop and think,
To pick up a cloth,
Wipe up their mess,
Or put their dishes in the sink.
And now it's almost meal~time,
One knows what lies ahead,
So ones feigning an illness,
And going straight to bed.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Danny Reynolds 13 April 2006

There's crafty, then there's poetic justice! For giving me a good chuckle, Te Absolvo hen! Danny

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Lizzy Tomlinson

Lizzy Tomlinson

Dundee, Scotland.
Close
Error Success