ON A TIRED HOUSEWIFE
March 25, 2007
Here lies a poor woman who was always tired,
She lived in a house where help wasn’t hired:
Her last words on earth were: ‘Dear friends, I am going
To where there’s no cooking, or washing, or sewing,
For everything there is exact to my wishes,
For where they don’t eat there’s no washing of dishes.
I’ll be where loud anthems will always be ringing,
But having no voice I’ll be quit of the singing.
Don’t mourn for me now, don’t mourn for me never,
I am going to do nothing for ever and ever.’
An anonymous poem
I have no idea about this poem and found it while searching for some poems posted in this blog. But since I like lyrical manifestos, I decided to post it too…. Does anyone know anything about this poem?