My Thingamajig

My Thingamajig

A Poem by Bob B

Problems can be small;

Problems can be big.

I'm having a problem

With my thingamajig.

 

Too much information,

Some might say.

But it's a kind of problem

You can't wish away.

 

When they are new,

They work like a dream.

Everything flows

In a steady stream.

 

But as they get older,

Like many things--I swear--

They start showing

A lot of wear and tear.

 

I'm sure you could

Make a funny quip;

But it isn't funny

When they start to drip.

 

One could try to stop

The dripping with one's hand.

But obviously,

It won't go as planned.

 

I often wonder what

Freud might have said.

The problem's not unique;

It's fairly widespread.

 

It really doesn't help

To squeeze it or strike it.

Where can I find

Another one just like it?

 

There HAS to be someone

Who could repair it.

Or do I have to

Simply grin and bear it?

 

I can't ignore the problem;

It won't disappear.

A LEAKY FAUCET is

A pain in the rear!

 

(3-18-17) By Bob B

© 2017 Bob B


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

48 Views
Added on March 18, 2017
Last Updated on March 19, 2017

Author