The Complant
Why do I have to write
this poem?
I had to find the words,
and then put them
in the correct order.
It’s not just another work!
It’s like I’m doing an old dance
from the 60s called The jerk.
So why do I have to
write this poem?
Let’s start with a thirty day
money-back guarantee.
How come it’s only thirty days?
What ever happened to
Satisfaction guaranteed
Or your money back.
I had to bring in my receipt.
They canceled my reservation
for a weekend retreat.
Now can someone tell me
why, do I have to write
this poem?
Customer service
didn’t keep track,
I want my money back!
When I spoke to the
lady behind the counter.
I knew she wouldn’t regret it,
When I turn down
the company credit.
That’s when she quoted
the phrase that pays…
Then you’ll have to wait
a week, to ten days.
Oh, and by the way,
There’s a restocking fee of five dollars.
I started to holler
as I reached for her collar.
But my better half
pulled me out the door.
A good thing too,
the police were parked
outside the store.
Before it could get any worse.
I filed a complaint with
The better business bureau
and the Chamber of Commerce.
But I didn’t stop there,
I put in a call,
My grandson
works in City Hall.
Now tell me, why do married men
get in trouble,
when a gorgeous woman walks by?
I got new neighbor’s
and I won’t lie,
I’m already tired of hearing
their babies cry.
Now! Can someone tell me!
Who let the water run dry?
When there looking for someone to blame.
Why do they call my name?
People may think I’m insane,
so I’ll just sit down,
and let someone else complain.
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