Wednesday, June 06, 2007

A Woman's Poem

He didn't like the casserole.
And he didn't like my cake.
He said my biscuits were too hard...
Not like his mother used to make.

I didn't perk the coffee right
He didn't like the stew,
I didn't mend his socks
The way his mother used to do.

I pondered for an answer
I was looking for a clue.
Then I turned around and smacked him...
Like his mother used to do.

--Author Unknown

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