I've never really thought,
about when I do the dishes,
I see the crumbs and specks,
here and there,
is when I come up with wishes.

That old dryer machine,
is making a little noise again,
the cabinet needs a fixin',
and the fridge is breaking down and then,
the car needs a tune up,
but that can wait a little while,
I'm worried about the kids,
as they pick up the Hollywood style.

Washing the dishes,
as the water goes down the drain,
I'm thinking of the flowers in the backyard,
how they bloom after it rains.

Roses are read,
violets are blue,
these dishes need washing,
and there are other things to do.

The water, it pours,
it sploshes, and drips,
the dog is running on the hard-wood floor,
and is having trouble getting grips.

Washing the dishes,
I think about the times,
when life was good,
and somewhat easy,
now this poem is...
getting rather cheesy.

It's kinda funny,
about what you're thinkin while you wash,
you start to take your time
and then the dishes are done.
Oh...