by Vivien Wade
There’s always so much to be done,
It makes me feel stressed and blue,
Another lady sits alone and bored
There’s not much for her to do.
don’t know what to cook for dinner,
Am sick of chicken, pasta or rice.
A homeless man rummages in a bin,
Thinking a slice of bread would be nice.
My teenager's music is far too loud,
It’s almost driving me crazy.
Others are strung out on drugs,
Their minds all muddled and hazy.
late home from work,
I find this annoying each day
Another husband’s looking for work,
A long time since he had a pay.
Thinking how others struggle
Then who am I to complain?
Having so much to be thankful for,
Will count all my blessings again.