Edgar Allen POEM

Emily Pankhurst can eat my shorts
A poem by Stegzy Gnomepants aged 34 1/2

I tidy up
I miss a bit
I paint the room
Looks like a dogs tit
I cook your dinner
You want to get thinner
I am the sinner
You are the winner
I vacuum the floor
There’s still dirt
Sweep and scrub
Until my arms hurt
I do things for us
That don’t earn a penny
But the things I do wrong
There are so many
Fill the dish washer
I miss a glass
Do the laundry
Your jeans still have grass
Stains and odours
Banished forever
Look I’ve done it
Aren’t I clever?
No I’m not
I’ve done it wrong
As youve told me
All a long
And so it goes on
Forever and a day
Unless I do it
Exactly your way
But even then
In the cold of night
I must admit
I can’t do anything right

Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists where I am more than qualified enough to talk confidently about absolute shite and bollocks.

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