The Cleaner

THE CLEANER . . . 

When I was younger, I just wanted to be a cleaner
After watching all the espionage films, I did gleaner

But, saying this all they did, was hand me a brush
Thinking to myself, you have got it all wrong mush

I swept the floors, thought this isn’t getting me far
When I said cleaner, I meant cleaner & not the char

I grew to regret my remarks, as more brooms I got
Until one day I thought, I’ve just had my flipping lot

Did 007 or Charles Bronson - start at the same level
If so, did they have the pleasure of a auto dust devil

Sucking in all the bad guys into their strong vacuums
While alas I’m still stood here holding all the brooms

So I thought just maybe, there is not a real difference
Just a different way in the art - of the hit deliverance

Sweeping away the cob webs, as if they are bad guys
As each bit of dust hit the dust, one of bad guys dies

Power of thought, is quite amazing, all said and done
But hiding in the bushes, sounds a little bit, more fun

Indiana Shaw . . . : )
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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