Half way through the day I notice I’ve odd socks
There is a different time on each of the clocks
I have my tea ready then find no sugar there
The random spikiness of some of my hair
Forgetting which pocket my parking tickets in
Getting corned beef, cutting myself on the tin
No batteries in the house when the remote control stops
Remembering what I needed after I come back from the shops
Sitting down then spotting the remotes not by my side
Not having my coat on when it’s tipping down outside
Having no idea where I left my locker key
I’m not that bothered, but it slightly annoys me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like your poem. It reminds me of the song, Macarthur Park. wj