The dishes aren't done
And it's ten o'clock at night
They should've been done two hours ago
But the infamous
I didn't feel like it
Decided to surface
And they sit on the counter
Taking up space
I didn't feel like it
And
I'm too tired
Go hand in hand
They're excellent liars they are
Weaving a false reality
With the hopes of getting off the hook
No matter what they have to say to do it
Who they have to hurt
Or what other self-inflicted ailments they can conjure
To make the ploy believable
At the end of the night
The dishes won't be done
By the lazy liar who was supposed to do them
So the task will be dropped on the shoulders
Of the one who
Will do the task
Because it must be done
They're tired too
They're exhausted too
They want to relax too
But the task cannot go
Undone
And somebody's gotta do it
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Book 4
Poésiehello again! another poetry book - number four, to be exact. if you've been here a while, you know the drill: there's no order to this thing, and after 100 poems or writing pieces, there's gonna be a new book. about the cover: it was a Thursday at S...
