Spesiaal vir die mans wat hul vrou wil he soos ma was.


Woman’s  Poem

He  didn’t like the casserole,
And he didn’t like my cake.
He said my biscuits were too hard…
Not like his mother used to make.
I didn’t  perk the coffee right,
He didn’t like the stew.
I didn’t mend his socks,
The way his  mother used to do.
I pondered for an answer,
Looking for a clue.
Then I turned around.

and snotklapped him…

Like  his mother used to  do.