In a word, today has been ‘pants’. Didn’t have the best start to the day as some idiot was blasting a car horn whilst everyone else was trying to sleep. As a result it’s been a rubbish day and I’ve turned into a grumpy old man. Todays poem hopefully brings this out.
Sunday. Not for Grumpy Old Men
A lie in, it’s Sunday morn
Woke with a start, blaring car horn
Usual round of grudge and grind
No time today to unwind
At least no need to do the lawn
Our gardener’s called Sean
Do the dinner, wash the car
No chance to play my guitar
Time flies, it’s looking grim
Can’t even visit the gym
In the kitchen, dinner to cook
Sue’s out with our cheque book
Favourite fim, it’s James Bond
Still in the kitchen, feeling conned
Juggling jobs and a saucepan
Relax! When? I’m a grumpy old man
UnclePhilsblog 