By Tony DeLorger © 2011
Who shall bring me my slippers now my trusty hound’s expired, and what wife will wash my undies now that divorce has claimed my pride? Just who will mow the lawns now that my kids have grown to teens, and sweep the carpet from muddy boots and everything in between? Not wash the car nor clean the bins or garden or toilet scrub, it’s always been me the biggest dope who’s done them all for love.
Three wives are lost to other men who’ll live a predestined fate, to work like dogs be poorly paid and reach their use-by date. The kids will learn it from independent life, when home they’ll leave in time, and realise what Dad had done to keep their lives in line. My cat now respects me for all that I have done, and he loves me dear my shadow self, but he’s the only one.
I thought that sharing went both ways the giving and taking true, but my mistake I’ve overlooked a selfish human zoo. What is it that makes me choose these waifs so helpless and needing rest, when others spend time preening life and working to their best? I guess I’m a pillar of responsibility, a chump and sucker too, but I’m the glue that keeps it on and working through and through.
For once I’d like to meet someone that greets me in the middle, and shares a life on equal terms, the joys the pain and drivel. So who will make my bed today, dry and fold the clothes, and prepare the meals, wash up and stack, smelling like a rose. Of course it’s me, my cat would try but he’s snoring on the lounge, I’m left to my own devices ‘cause I’m the only one around.
It’s good to be King, I whisper quiet, the sweat a dripping down, my work in constant progress, my knuckles on the ground. My days are filled with action, my nights are filled with quiet, my dreams are filled with longing and I hope that life won’t bite. Perhaps one day I’ll meet someone to complete my other half; perhaps I’ll just write alone and sit upon my arse. In any case my cat and I are happy enough for now, his demands are few and he gives in droves and never do we row.
In conclusion who will honour me, my dreams and ethics sound, of course it’s me the only one who understands my bounds. At peace I am with my past and now I can only be, what life has blessed and given, through my eyes only I can see.
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