Why must we be stuck
With the worst job in the world?
Some crumple, some fold
Then off we’re whirled
Down a meander path
Where slinky rats thrive
Nice and pristine
When we used to be alive
Surely this is the worst
So don’t you complain!!
Next time, please think
Of what we have to clean.
YOU ARE READING
A jar of Thoughts
PoetryA simple miscellaneous collection written by yours truly. All rights reserved.
