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Dishwashing
January 15, 2014
This is my chore in which I did not adore,
Why couldn’t everyone just clean up after themselves?
Day after day I’m forced to slave away,
Repeating the same steps done yesterday.
Water rushes into the sink,
With bubbles filling up to its peak.
Utensils, plates, cups, bowls, pots/pans, and boards
Are washed separately as not to hoard.
Grease and stains cover them clear and plain,
Giving me great agonizing pain.
SPLISH! SPLASH! The water goes,
As I rush to finish in hopes to repose.
The water swirls down the drain,
Leaving residue behind as remains.
© Anonymous
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