The house we Live in is quite “Old,”
it’s latest Saga I Unfold.
Reality, at times, is Bleak,
as “Aging Us” – Pipes start to Leak.
This time ‘Twas the Kitchen Sink,
basement Water in a Blink.
Called the Plumber – came at Noon,
my poor Wallet – not Immune.
I stayed Close but did not Stare,
never Spied his Underwear.
To my Joy I give Feedback,
not Exposed to his “Butt Crack.”
Plumber Questions in the End,
one Unsaid I can’t Pretend,
Wonder like a Maniac,
did His Shirt snap Front to Back?