Today I took a look around my house and me.
The house is lookin’ shabby, O’ yes, as can be.
Can’t ye see it needs paintin’’tis dull now ya see.
One time, of it I wuz proud ta say it were mine.
Howiver, times hae changed, me outlook too.
I suppose whin I stop ta think, it’s my inward too.
I dunno if that be jist rite, that be my pint of view.
Kin ye change it? Sur’, git a pait brush an’ a can.
O’ yea, an’a ladder ta hit tha hi spots, doncha no?
Ye naow ar sayin’No! Well take yer ladder an’ Go!
Why ar ye naow hangin’ round, turnin’ up yer nose?
What? Ye want yer salary? Man , take yerself an’ git.
An’ naow, I take a look at me; I be afraid of what I see.
A hed that shines whin tha sun is oot, hairless as can be.
Maybe I’ll see a barber, well, whin I’m on a spree.
Ye note the hair on his floor? Cud that not be on me?
Me legs be gittin’bowed, an’skinny me pot be nae tha
Same. Tha belt fer me pants ~~ no mor can I see. Naow,
whin I look at me house, oh man, is it the werst, or me?
I be proud ta say it’s my home. No Happier could I be.
Copyright © 2011 Charles E. Frost
January 14, 2011