Clean Clean Clean Poem by Nicholas Wayde Turner

You gripped and complained for no reason at all.

I think it's because you weren't very tall.

Back when I was a kid.

I remember what you did.

Things were thrown across the house.

And I hid like a little mouse.

After your temper tantrum was finished.

There was absolutely no blemish.

You would make me clean up your mess, while you sat there and played chess.

It was like that a lot growing up.

At least we didn't live in a dump.