No More Chores
My broken fence; it sits and waits
For my hands to come and mend
However, there is often more
Than simple chores to tend
I wake up with intentions
To tackle each and every chore
But, to my life, as all of you,
I am nothing but a whore
See, I’d gladly give up working
Should pleasure come my way
Disrupting all the plans I had
Changing then, the boring day
So, my broken fence, still it waits
And my side door needs repair
My kitchen sink, it’s on the blink
You know? I just don’t care.
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