Spring Cleaning Poem by John Shea

I can, t Remove the mess of my life
No polish will bring back the shine
Tide just brought sand
With its ebb and its flow
A rake with no tines fails all the time
Rags full of suds just make a smudge
Pressure sprayers make it intense
I believe I lost all my sense
And my cents
I tried glass cleaner and only got leaner
Just a great big fat mess
Push brooms just gave me more room
For the mess that I made
Then I tried glade
It smelled like a skunk
I tried tissues and mops and something called gunk
I gave everything a try
And got nothing but funk
I will try a flood
And probably sink
In the funk
So till next spring
I will just dream
Of draino and orange peel
Gee! I am a heel.