Sunday, 12 August 2012

Epitaph for a Housewife.


Pic. mine, text sent to me by Betty

It Sayes
Here lies a poor women who was always tired.
She lived in a house were help was not hired.
Her last words, on earth were dear
Friends I am going to where there’s no washing,
 cooking or sewing.
For everything there is exact to my wishes.
For where they don’t eat there are no dishes.
I’ll be where load anthems will always be ringing.
But, having no voice, I’ll no be singing.
Don’t weep for me now, don’t weep for me ever.
For I’m going to do nothing for ever and ever.

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