Cats outside, raising a ruckus, peeing on everything
. I wash it off.
. Dog inside, rolling with glee, woops! she takes a pee
. I clean it up.
. I’m so tired, clumsy and hungry, spilling my juice, ants come
. I kill them all.
. Round we go, round and round, cleaning and messing
. I am fighting.
. Was I born for this kneeling ?
. Cleaning up piss?
. Break my back, have an attack? For a hovel?
. A place like this.
. A place my very Own.
. Who are you, growing up rich?
. Drunken and spoiled
. Face down in a ditch.
. “Clean it up Joe, find you a Doe!”
. You kissed her, now Dad says
. “Get hitched.”
. You will hate her, yet deny it,
. Wishing you did not choose it
. Now you beat, berate, and tie her
. ( You can’t keep your wick lit.)
. It was too hard to comprehend,
. This awful struggle to the end.
. You see, the fight’s the thing,
. This is the madness our life brings
. It’s not the lovely picnic resting,
. But the jabbing and the testing
. The Cat’s reign ends in terror,
. When the rat’s the standard bearer,
. When the pigeon trumpets loudly
. ” Too much foreplay, much too rowdy”
. Lay down your arms,
. Your legs, and tiny minds
. Pursue peace, seek you’ll find
. Even in these troubled times.
. I am sad and very weary,
. Throw in the towel,
. Wipe your eyes, Deary
. The fight now over, lost and gone
, Send the soldiers to their homes.
. Bruised and battered , torn and crusty,
. Their uniform so dank and dusty
. Where’s your fight now, wheres your medal?
. All alone upon the Pedestal.
. No more gallant hero jesting
. No more contact sport or testing,
. The battles over and we won.
. The fighting is now dead and done.