They like so many,
Claim to enjoy those comforts of home.
But participating in keeping it that way...
Often leads to complaints,
Of chores left undone.
And who should play that role...
Of comfort provider?
And who is not up to meeting standards,
Left and needing regular dusting.
Unless,
One lives alone.
And only then where things are thrown...
Do they find their proper place!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem