The Grumpy Old Woman

The Grumpy Old Woman

Who left the door open? Were you born in a barn?

Don’t you dare set foot on my freshly mopped floor!

The tea’s too strong, the bread’s too stale,

And don’t get me started on that ghastly mail.

The neighbors are noisy; their dog is a pest,

Kids on the street? Don’t give me that mess!

They scream and they shout; they’ve no sense of pride,

I’d gladly lock the whole lot of them inside.

Your music’s too loud, your clothes are obscene,

When I was your age, we were tidy and clean.

Don’t slouch in that chair; don’t breathe in my space—

Why must everyone be such a disgrace?

The weather’s too cold, and then it’s too hot,

The garden’s a jungle, but I won’t touch that plot.

The telly’s all rubbish; the world’s lost its mind,

And manners? Oh please, they’re a thing of the kind.

Now, don’t roll your eyes, I know what you’ll say,

“She’s just a grump, let her moan all day.”

Well, fine! Let me moan; it’s my one true delight—

To grumble and groan from morning to night!