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Captive
I am a captive of these household chores,
Cleaning windows, wall and floors.
Fighting dirt all the way,
Until I am old and grey.
Up at 5 to start the sandwich brigade.
Pack their lunches and homemade lemonade.
All are up so make breakfast - bacon and eggs.
Little one wants to stay home - he begs,
Dry up the tears, all off to school and work.
Back to chores no time to shirk.
A mountain of clothes to be washed to remove the dirt,
Especially the lipstick on hubby's shirt.
No time or inclination to check if its mine.
Washing all finished, dirt came out fine.
Now to the washing up lets get it all clean.
Bottled detergent claims it will make them gleam.
Now to tackle cleaning each room
Trudge upstairs with mop, vacuum and broom
There's a lot more but I am calling it a day,
I do all this without any pay
My life is a constant fight against dirt and grime
and what will they do when departing this world, it is my time?
After fighting all this dirt, my future I see,
They will put me in a box and throw dirt all over me.
Copyright ©
Speaks Volumes
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