Why do i let the small things in life get to me so much?
Why do i loose my cool so damn easily?
These questions are so simple
Yet i cant answer them
I need for nothing
Im by all means not rich
But have enough to live a comfortable existance
Yet i still go mad over the stupidest things
Crumbs on the floor,
Mud on the rug
Pots left on the drainer
I cant stand it
It drives me crazy
All the hours i spend cleaning and tidying
when i could be out doing more
You only live once
Make the most of your time
After all we are not around for long are we?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem