I dread this day,
The day that it all just becomes too much.
How much? You may ask
Don’t ask, it’s embarrassing.
So embarrassing that my own mother would disown me.
Who, me? Yes, that is exactly who’s to blame.
Complete shame, for putting it off.
It’s off the hangers, off the shelves and on the floor.
The floor is literally gone, you can’t see it any more.
No more shopping trips or retail therapy for this girl.
We women have it tough, so many tyrant requirements
A garment for every inch, curve or skin we have.
Why is this such a problem, how did it get so bad?
Its as high as my hopes were for getting this done,
But I’ve lost this sad competition.
I’ve hit my breaking point, what do I do?
Im at my last and final straw.
Is it widespread or just a generational flaw?
Because I don’t remember signing my life away
to all of this, I told myself it be done by this Friday.
I resorted to a path from one side of the room to the other.
Someone, anyone, please come to the rescue in this clothing ocean.
Bring Tide, Arm and Hammer, Fabric Softener and Dryer Sheets.
Grab sheets, shirts, socks, shorts; just take it all.
It’s all over the place and in the way, Oh, how I despise,
Laundry Day.