Manners
You come to my house expect me to serve;
Food and drink,
you think you deserve.
You lay on my sofa and kick off your shoes;
Telling me your woes,
Singing your blues.
When you're done talking and there is no food on your plate;
You gulp down your drink, then you wait.
Burping out loud, you say nothing at all;
You look at me strangly,
You have the gull.
If you can't tell be now you're rude and it's obviously you can't see;
When you come to my house,
Find some manners and at least say "Excuse Me!"
Copyright © Kristi Slusarski | Year Posted 2018
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