The Neverending Story
The clash of wills begins again, the wife
Who cannot be denied, the grandkids
Who refuse to listen. On a day too cool
To go outside, the pressure builds
Within, and, surely, before dinner's served,
A cataclysm must arrive, and I will hang
My head.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
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Written on 2024-10-18 at 16:54
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