In my back kitchen all is quite still, <br />I have cooked my food and ate my fill. <br />Then the dishes in the sink had their say, <br />He always eats here but he does not pay. <br />The empty bottle of fresh brewed beer, <br />Said, 'He drained me dry without a tear.' <br />Then of course the mess he makes, <br />To cook a meal the time he takes. <br />Could he not eat in the restaurant next door? <br />They need the money because the Boss is poor. <br />The only thing that had nothing to say, <br />Was the frying pan it was not its day. <br />The knives and forks were filled with rage, <br />He is a messy eater he should act his age. <br />Picking out bits here and there indeed, <br />No wonder he takes so long to have his feed. <br />Have you ever listened to your kitchen tools? <br />Mine complain I am the king of fools. <br />They say I should go out to eat, <br />Order fresh vegetables with plenty of meat. <br />Not to come home and start to cook, <br />I should be relaxing with a good book. <br />They have no respect for me you know, <br />Just because I am old and getting slow. <br />I wash the pots and pans clean each day, <br />Then I carefully put them all away. <br />I think I will throw them away onto the rubbish heap, <br />Except for the sugar bowl that I will keep.<br /><br />Bernard Shaw<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/back-kitchen/
