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Dirty Laundry Last night in a dream; he was in the strangest place; He was surrounded by a group of singers; that sang Amazing Grace. There was a lady in the middle; who had a sign that said divorced; She wore it like a corset; so tight it changed her voice. She offered him assistance; even though he knew just how; He had washed his cloths before; and he didn’t need it now. Politely he did listen; and even seemed amused; He told a little joke to her; and she came off as abused. Latter on while folding cloths; some others tried to help; Mrs. Divorce restricting corset; cried out with a yelp. She said he was pathetic; or something such as that; Amazed and jaw slapped open; he thought, what ever kitty cat. Next thing that he knew; he was sitting in a room; And people were conversing; how the end was coming soon Everyone agreed; as their heads did nod in time; Isn’t that just peachy; was what was on his mind. Latter on that night; still with-in his dreams; The lady with the corset; was ripping at the seams. The ladies kept on singing; as if it didn’t matter; But the list of all their grievances; just kept on getting fatter. They mocked him for his socks; obviously mismatched; They watched him like a hawk and angry looks dispatched. His detergent was unacceptable; it didn’t have a brightener; And his bed sheets and his underwear; didn’t have a whitener. When his washing was completed; he thought of toilet habits; And when they shopped for tissue; by the cases would they grab it. Of course there’s scented candles; and fresheners for the air; That would cost a piece of change; but of course they wouldn’t care. A dream about the laundry mat; and the queens up in the room; Speaking out their cackles’; like the witches with their brooms. The odyssey about it all; it’s the same thing when awake; Life can’t really be like this; this must be a mistake.
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