Another Poem I Can’t Saw The Wife (Part 12) Poem by fanniesson -

You wake up and she’s there,
and
it could be a lot worst I admit.

I could be taking about a boil on my rear end
a pus infested biol that needs me to soak in bathtub
reading the paper for a few hours,
continually adding hot water till it finally pops,
and yes
it’s that bad.

Every time I turn around her standing there inquiring.
“Hon what you doing? ” 24/7 rain or shine,
summer or winter, till death do us part she tells me
that was the agreement.