she never washes us
if new friends to come, she creates a fuss
'when will she clean her' said the sad knife
all of them whispered 'even the master cribs about his wife! '
she's busy in shopping
not interested in mopping
'i have lost luster' the spoon says
it looks like bad luck has been raining from days and days
'don't back-bitch about her'
says the cat with a soft purr
'i have good food'
'in a hungry mood'?
all of them were in dismay
all they could say
'our food is detergent and soap and brush'
the footsteps heard; and all of them go hushhh....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem