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Sunday, June 13, 2010

From the E-mail

Author is Unknown
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 the s--- out of him....
Like his mother used to do.
 I love a good poem

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