“My Exhausting Day”
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My life begins with a quiet wait‑and‑see,
I get up, I move, sometimes I sting like a bee.
I write each day to settle down my mood,
And care for the man who cooks my food.
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Time doesn’t matter — I’ve always got some to spare,
I give my best to everything because I care.
It’s hard juggling a million things now and then,
But I’m glad I’m typing and don’t need a pen.
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My wrists get sore, my fingers start to ache,
That’s when I know it’s time to bake a cake.
A break now and then is one I need to take,
If not, it turns into a terrible mistake.
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Life in this house where I live,
It really has not much to give.
It’s plain and simple with plenty of dust,
And in the kitchen you’ll find dry bread crust.
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The wildlife needs to eat, just like me,
So I scatter bread crusts out beneath the tree.
The squirrels all feast when dinner is there,
And they chow it down till nothing is there.
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This is my simple life, the way I ease my stress,
Half the time you won’t even see me dressed.
The friends I have are mostly all online,
We talk every day — and honestly, that’s fine.
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The only thing I wish that people would do
Is write me a message — even just one or two.
It gets lonely when no comments are said,
Makes me feel like I’ve already gone to bed.
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Please wake me up when the coffee’s finally done,
This is my day — oh, isn’t it fun.
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