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Soapy, soapy, bubbles in the water.
Dishes lined right up all along the sink,
Ev’ry one lined up and starting to stink.
Dishes made long ago by a potter,
And a sponge floating ‘round like a yachter.
Washing all the dishes, quick as a wink.
Do not take all too long to stew and think.
Turn on the faucet and make it hotter.
Dishes are covered with water and soap,
Scrubbed away is all the dirt and the grime,
Along with all of the finishing hope,
Washed down the drain like a student’s spare time.
Now rinsed and racked upon every *****,
Dish dryer for hire, pays not a dime.

— The End —