Under the Stirs

It sits under my stairs, It's been there a few weeks, Growing more each day, I put it off and do other stuff, I hate that thing under my stirs. I pass it ever day knowing it's there, Mentaly asking it "to please go away", I try to block it out as much as I can, There comes that day and it has to be done. An hour spending ironing teashirts, trousers and skirts I hate doing that thing under my stirs, After an hour I've had enough so I put it away, I will go clean the toilet I prefer that anyday.