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A woman's poem

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It's PG

A Woman's Poem

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 sh*t out of him...

Like his mother used to do.
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A woman's poem It's PG