Soap, a bucket and three kinds of mop
(Plus a spare, in case one’s ill-fated)
And blind zeal that will not let him stop
Till the last black speck is eliminated
He can scrub and scrub without pause
Ignoring the chuckles of all who pass
But the grime will never go, because
He’s cleaning the wrong side of the glass
I shake my head, smile sadly, and walk past him
On my way to change the world to suit my whim
1 comment:
Superb Stuff!
Loved it! :)
-- Akshaya
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