The Moaner.


The family say that I moan and groan, undeniably,

but not without good reason I say, justifiably.


Did your shopping trolley wheel turn rogue, with hysteria,

was your item unexpected in the bagging area?

Have you pulled when you should have pushed upon an exit door,

blown your nose on paper towels, then leaving it quite sore?

I chuntered LOUD like a spoiled kid,

did you moan too? I bet you did!


How about that bit of gravel, resting within your shoe,

or that pesky diarrhoea that keeps you on the loo?

Have you struggled to locate a reversed USB,

tried to cut and eat your food, with plastic cutlery?

I said my piece and I had my say,

did you moan too, make sure they pay?


What about that troublesome hair still hiding in your mouth,

and that sweaty extra degree when travelling down south,

the door you closed so many times, then to be left open,

the bits of plastic all afloat and sitting in the ocean?

“There he goes again”, they chide.

Do you moan too, once in your stride?


Have you ever had a popcorn shell stuck between your teeth,

had an uneven table, propped with paper underneath,

been held up by a carefree dawdler in the outside lane,

had cold calls from foreigners, not once but then again?

To rant and rave, I feel is right.

Do you moan too, put up a fight?


What about those abled bodies parked in disabled bays,

fading batteries in your remote or babysitting days,

MP’s expenses, naughty children taken off to weddings,

wrinkled stockings, cellulite and sagging lady’s leggings?

These things are wrong, you can’t fool me.

Do you moan too and disagree?


Big Brother, pimped up cars, burnt toast and empty toilet roll,

mumbling, slow traffic lights, junk mail and lacking birth control,

TV adverts, persistent flies and the mother in law,

are just a few of my hang ups as I can think of more.

So, don’t go on, or turn the screw.

Do you moan too? I’M SURE YOU DO!