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.