The Man At Number Ten
“The man at number ten's mowing his lawn!”
“Get off your fat backside and go do ours!”,
she nagged, so off he went, looking forlorn,
she supervised him,in between her glowers.
“The man at number ten's painting his fence!
You said you'd do ours three years back, you know!
A simple job, that needs no common sense,
now get the paint and roller- off you go!”
Each passing day the wife found more to do,
the man at number ten had lit the fire,
the list of jobs for hubby to go through
increased, as did his frustration and ire.
Still, things at home have been better since when
he went and shot the man at number ten.
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