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.

 

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