The House of a Sloth
Around the room I look today,
I see that things are all array.
Messes here and messes there,
Everything is everywhere.
Disorder on the tile floor,
Dirty fingers on the door.
Balls of dust under the bed,
Junk is strewn in the shed.
Cobwebs hang in the corner of the room,
Never knocked down by the kitchen broom.
Heaps of clothes piled up high,
Everything looks like a filthy pigsty.
Dishes left where they do not go,
Food left out for mold to grow.
The beautiful house looks all forlorn,
Even the curtains are badly torn.
A sloth lives in this house you know,
For no one else would leave it so.
Copyright © Peggy Caulfield | Year Posted 2012
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