Socks and wot-not dressing my opaque wooden floors, this is terrible and smelly; my feet had no right to do this at all.
Dishes’ lining up at the sink, cups begging plates to take the first dip, knifes teasing forks as they stand not sit.
And bath, Please! Stop forever wearing that ring. You do know it does not fit you, it don’t suit you not one bit.
My closet is punching shoes in the face, its reminding them that the floor is there’s. They don’t seem to understand such message, inviting more in to stand and stare.
The laundry basket is such a jerk, always throwing out the towels, it clearly read the contract and agreed what’s mines is ours.
Ironing board, Oh ironing board! Could you please stop complaining for one day? Yes I know it has been weeks since you’ve even seen the light of day. But my hands are tied yet again and I just cannot bare to find the strength to clean your swollen face.
The desk keeps complaining, it’s finally had enough of fluff. Since the day they were first introduced, fluff took advantage and moved in all her stuff.
I have had too much to drink today, it’s obviously clear to tell, but please don’t call me dirty, let’s just say I don’t clean too well.
I’ll sober up tomorrow, by then I hope I can stand, enable my on switch to click ON finally and control this weary girl.
Until such time arrives, can I ask of you all this? Please do stop complaining and tidy up your own Flaming mess.
In Loving Memory of ‘Mess’ may you R.I.P