another poem from fred

[fred913]

Wash That Neck

I can still here the words of my mother and Dad,
The content still lingers, it's ever so sad.
I can't hear that tap she would shout round the door,
And don't get that water all over the floor.

The inspection came nextt as she twisted my ear,
You haven't used much water this morning that's clear.
This neck's got a tide mark, she'd convey to Dad,
If it's spotted they'll reckon we're all just as bad.

Sergeant Majors could learn such a lot from my Mum,
The Gestapo also would benefit some.
She knew all the tricks, and I'd tried every one,
To get out of washing, she never missed none.

I remember one morning, I was ever so proud,
I feigned a real sickness, moaned ever so loud.
In the end she backed down, there'd be no school today,
Then I stupidly let out a hip hip hooray.

When I look back now, I should have enjoyed,
The thrust and the parry, I should have been bouyed.
But it all seemed a trial this battle of wits,
The check round the ears, and the search for the nits.

This endless attempt not to do all things right,
Now seems so pointless, a waste of a fight,
But stubborn I stayed to the very last day,
You'd think for the effort I'd get my own way.

[unclepony11]

very good m8! keep em coming