THE ANGEL OF REST

THE ANGEL OF REST

By Vigan Osmani

My hands were not prepared

To work

Cleaning, Cooking, Caring

And what does she need more?

Whenever I leave home it is wrecked,

Whenever I come back it is clean

How could it clean by itself?

But it is her that does all my work.

My responsibility?

I can’t find it

Oh.. but all of it goes to her.

The desk is always clean for me to eat and play

But it isn’t me the one who cleans it

The responsibility I have is to eat, sleep, play

But who does all the nasty stuff?

It is her, o mighty her.

The Gigantic swarm of garbage

Was overwhelming her

Thy rest she never had

Her care for me was like fairies

Who try to wake me up

And tell me to

Start working and give her a rest.

Her golden age has just begun

My description of

I am to lazy

Left her to succumb to my

Responsibilities.

But once more she

Tolerated it and

Came to her senses

It’s not my job

It is yours

Frash, frash the

Sound of the broom

Clearing my mind and set me to the fire of my

Responsibility, and

Gave the angel of work a rest.