TV
WIDOW
By: Ross H.L. Bowen
I am a TV WIDOW
And my age is thirty-four
I don't believe I'll ever sleep
With my hubby any more.
A giant four-foot TV screen
Keeps sports upon his brain
I guess he doesn't realize
That he has lost love's game.
When my man comes home from work
He plops down in his chair
He wants to watch his sports so bad
He eats his dinner there...
Baseball, Football, Basketball --
There's Golf and Tennis, too...
We never get to do the things
That normal couples do.
Oh, RCA, the maker
Of my solid-state TV
You are a source of sorrow
And endless misery!!
When I die still childless
And they lay me in the grave
Then who will do the household chores
And work just like a slave
I don't think there's another
Who is patient, just like me.
I guess he'll prob'ly starve to death
In front of that TV!!
By: Ross H.L. Bowen
Copyright 1989
Page Created : Pam Gallo
Midi : Everything
