A Kitchen Without a Woman
Me and my woman had a fight
I feel like i was knocked out but she only took flight
She left in haste without a hug or a peck
A littered kitchen was my first reality check
The dirty dishes are now screaming at me
The leftovers are whispering “you haven’t ate me”
I tip-toe around crumbs and spills
Like the kitchen was a deadly mine field
The slippery floor was braced to catch me if I fall
Utensils misplaced, a cup where there should have been a bowl
It is getting sticky in the hands and under my feet
This cookhouse used to smell nice and used to look neat
Reaching out for the mop is too acrobatic
Fitting out an apron the wrong-side out, no worries
I turned into a bookworm of manuals just to get the cooker hissing
The kitchen can be a jigsaw puzzle, when a woman is missing
The meals are getting burnt right under my nose
My hands are too few to keep ovens opened or closed
Cooking is like a battlefield in a smokey Kitchen
I guess fingers burn first, after a heart is broken
I have a burnt finger, could a fried arm be next
Let me save the rest of them for typing an apology text
If my kitchen is unstable without her touch
My heart will be rubble without her love
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