Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.17.70.182

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

When are you going to fix the garage door?
He had just gotten home from an eight-hour-day.
Was barely in the house when she began harping.
Can I please put on my comfy clothes first? He wondered.

She followed him into the bedroom.
You said you would fix it this week, she said.
He shut his eyes, trying to shut her words out.
She yipped like a dog when she was on a little roll like this.

Can I get a little snack first? He asked.
You are going to sit in that recliner all evening, she accused.
He said “I might,” and sat down with his remote.
Her mouth was yapping like a swim pool filter cover.

She was a professional hound. She could never have silence.
He had no idea of this when he fell in love with her.
Could I have just a bit of silence tonight? He asked her.
They ate their supper, and his eyes began to close.

What about the garage door? She asked him.
I don’t have the right parts, he said. It was a quick lie.
Then what is stopping you from changing the filters in the furnace?
He thought back to their dating days. She was never like this back then.

If she had been, would he have fallen in love? He did not know.
Or you could clean off that work bench of yours, she suggested.
Why did she want him to constantly do something?
He thought of the couch out in his garage, and he made his escape.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required