Poetry

Too Much (#792)

Why in this house is there never peace?
Will the fits and frustrations ever cease?

I sit down to start my writing,
Next thing I know my cats are fighting,

Then my son requires my undivided attention,
And my wife gets neurotic beyond comprehension,

Matters of work and money always at the door,
And there’s always some bit of housework or chore,

It’s not always full-blown crazy around here,
But then again sometimes it can get severe,

In this house, there’s no absolute escape,
Might as well wrap my nerves in caution tape,

Sleep should not be my only reprieve,
Why then is peace so hard to achieve?

Any Thoughts?

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