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Domestic Goddess.
Who is this voice that's in my head, when I
So want to stay in bed,that fills my mind with
Things to do, to change my flat to something
New!
Who is this brat, this nagging diva,this overbearing
Eager beaver, this goddess of domesticity who just
Won't loose her grip on me!
I know there's dishes in the sink but has she ever stopped
To think, and think and think and think and think.So many
Things to fill my time, than effort spent in fighting grime.
The papers on the table piled, are in my chaos neatly filed!
My skills at Landry, what a bore! Have taken steps to clear
The floor! Why make myself unduly stressed, with body
Heat my dress is pressed.
The cracks are showing in the ceiling, and pillows
Hide my paintwork peeling,some strength I may one
Day muster, on trying to locate elusive duster.
On good days friends can venture in, on bad days
Panic settles in, diversion I find works the best, when
No one must see the messed up nest!
I have a posse of clean freak buddies, whose lives are spent
In soapy suddies. They are the enemy to my homely bliss, cuz
They've never seen a home like this! They are the snipers, the
Marigold army, whose upperty perfection drives you barmy!
The wasters of time and creative juice as I have to think
Of excuse an excuse. Oh shut the door on these pesky
Creatures,who polish taps and point at features. Who
Do not see the skills it takes to constantly apply the
Domestic brakes!
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