Addiction

Dishes not rinsed, not washed, not stacked.

My kitchen looks as if it’s been sacked.

The floors need sweeping.

The furniture dusting.

The windows want cleaning.

The cutlery’s rusting.

No food in the fridge.

I haven’t been shopping.

Run out of paper for bum and nose-wiping.

Bed not made, the sheets all a mess.

Progressively harder to find a dress.

No clean clothes, the laundry is full

but there’s no soap powder to wash them all.

The garden needs tending.

I’m not really sleeping.

At work my feet dragging

from late nights I’m keeping.

You see I’ve discovered

a whole group of friends

and instead of housework

I’m chatting to them.

I’m hooked like a junkie

in a venture unique

of floating ideas

and kindly critique.

I’m at my computer at every spare moment

trying to think of good rhymes to quote.

Caught up in reading talented others.

And it’s all the fault of Neopoet.