SPENDING MY DAYS

SPENDING MY DAYS. . . a nonsense rhyme about my endless writing in the kitchen!

I’m spending my days freelancing;
it seems I don’t know to quit!
I’m better off than if dancing—

I really think I need to sit!
My wheelchair’d be lone and sad;
my loved ones would be in a fit!

They’d say: this time, we thought she had
to sit upon that chair, so hard!
She fooled us then, we’ll get her bad!

And now, she’ll have to cut the yard!!
She’s fooled us good, we won’t relent!
We should protest, be on our guard!

But I’ll tell them that I was sent
to help them with their balancing—
I don’t know where their sane life went!