Poetry

A poem for the Wife of an Ungrateful Husband

He didn't like the casserole,

And he didn't like the cake.

He said the biscuits were too hard,

Not like his mother used to make.

I didn't make the coffee right,

He didn't like my stew,

I didn't fold his pants the way,

His mother used to do.

I pondered for an answer.

I was looking for a clue.

Then I turned around,

And smacked the shit out of him.

Like his mother used to do.