He never picked up his wet towels off the bathroom floor,
no matter how many times I asked.
He never left the toilet seat down after he used it,
no matter how many times I implored.
He never arrived anywhere on time,
no matter how many times I waited.
He never squeezed the toothpaste from the end,
no matter how many times I begged.
He never asked me what I wanted to watch on television,
no matter how many times I glared.
He never held the door open for me,
no matter how many times I paused.
He never was able to catch his breath,
no matter how many times I pushed.
It wasn’t my fault he never learnt swim with bricks tied to his feet,
no matter how many times I smiled.
Lisa Rufus 