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'tis the little things

I spy a wrapper on the floor
A small thing, hardly a major chore
And yet, no - it shall remain
and cause strife and no small pain.
It’s just a wrapper - but who’s?
None can know, but none can lose:
to pick it up is to admit defeat,
and I for one shall ne’er retreat!
I shall not be dictated to clean,
I shall not be another’s machine!
It’s just a wrapper? It is principle!
To give in is by now unthinkable
And now the dishes, and now the bill
And now the dust upon the windowsill.
It is stupid, none are in the right -
they attack us, they push for a fight.
To be raged at, to be ignored.
No longer any attempt to talk, I am merely bored;
Of course it’s rude, foolish and wrong
I’ve claimed nothing else all along,
They are no longer a supposed friend;
they’ll get what’s coming in the end
I’m tired of being the one 'immoral’
I’m tired of such a pathetic quarrel,
I long for the day they are out the door
As I spy a wrapper on the floor.

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