Obsessed - Poem by victoria haigh
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?
Comments about Obsessed by victoria haigh
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye