Wednesday, August 27, 2003

Yours Could Be Worse!

For like 10 days, the house was pristine and not just clean.
Everything was in order, in its place and it was really quiet and quite nice.
Even the car, fresh from the wash and waxed to the max.
No clutter nor splatters, there was no mother.
One week after mother has arrived,
the clutter and splatters are back and bacteria thrives.
The walls tremble from a resounding reverberation
of screeching, nagging sometimes chuckling sound
from a roll call of calls to relatives and friends.
The neighbors are fighting in the background,
they probably think there's one over our house,
the way mother sounds.
Little do they know she's just indulging in her favorite past time,
for a lack of something better to do with her precious time,
talking about other people's lives either how bad or worse,
good or better they have become at par compared to hers, but of course!
She is my mother, yours could be worse.
I try hard to ignore her, my only recourse.