O pity the people
Afflicted by stuff!
There is always too much
And never enough.
Stuff must be polished
And sorted and stored.
It keeps expanding
And can't be ignored.
It breeds in dark corners
And gives birth to mess;
It has no compassion
For struggles or stress.
Is there a solution?
Escape? A device?
The self-help market
Overflows with advice.
Angels for hire
Relentless on missions
Love creating more space
For new acquisitions.
No final solution!
Frustration and sorrow.
What you discard today
You will need tomorrow.
YOU ARE READING
ZANYVERSE
PoetryPoetry doesn't have to be serious! Here is a collection of rhymes to make you smile, giggle, and groan.
