I went out and got
married,
Up and took a wife...
Excited at the prospect
of
Sharing a new life.
I found
out rather quickly,
There's no such thing as bliss...
It
wasn't long 'till it became,
A struggle to exist.
Her cooking lacked the expertise,
I knew my
mother's did...
And when I made small note of that,
She
slammed each pot and lid.
She fried and she would scramble,
She broiled
and she would bake...
Still there was no comparison to,
Her
own and mother's cake.
She seemed
to only fix the things,
That I refused to eat...
Beef liver
cooked with onions,
Said, 'Those are a real treat!'
She didn't take too kindly,
To
suggestions that I made...
Still I blundered straight
ahead,
Confident and unafraid.
My mother dear has passed on,
My wife
has left me too...
I'm hungry and I'm lonely,
Doing what a man
must do.
My meals are quick and
simple,
Now that I have no wife...
I'm gaining weight on 'take
out',
Junk food has saved my life.
(c) 06/23/06 Loree (Mason)
O'Neil
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