An Indian wife’s poem
He did not like the curry
And he did not like my cake
He said my biscuits were too hard …
Not like his mother used to make
I did not prepare the coffee
He did not like the stew,
I did not mend his socks
The way his mother used to do
I pondered for an answer
I was looking for a clue
Isn’t there anything I could do
To match his mothers shoe
Then I smiled as I saw light
One thing I could definitely do
I turned around
And slapped him tight
Like his mother used to!!!
Author unknown
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