A Part Of Living Poem by sylvia spencer

A part of living is what I am going to write about
and that is why us Mums always shout. When we
come home from work and there's a pile in the sink
but we must get on with it, but at first we think.
In a situation like this which is such a bore, because you
left it clean the morning before.
Kids home from school not home alone, they are old
enough to be on their own. You go to the pantry you
find a broken egg on the floor, you start to clear it up
and you find it's run under the fridge door, this now has
become and endless chore.
The microwave is next on the list, to look inside you would
think it was pissed. Curry and rice scattered all around, the
last time that was seen was outside The Rose and Crown.
Cups and plates left on the work top and a carrier bag full
of remains from the Chinese shop.
Your law and order just fades, when the kitchen sheves are
empty because their contents are in the the sink stacked up
in piles of plenty.
Muck on the oven from food boiled over, their dish was spoiled
so they gave it to Rover, the dog that is. Now this old dog is the
cleanest of all because he cleans his plate and is never left
in a state
with the kitchen cleaned up and your back to square one
this is a part of life which ain't no fun. Then when your
standing in your pantry with it's purpose and repose your
wondering what to do with the refuge, that has now buried
your toes.