Woman's Poem

A  WOMAN'S POEM   He didn't like the casserole And he didn't like my cake. He said my biscuits were too hard... Not like his mother used to make. I didn't perk the coffee right He didn't like the stew, I didn't mend his socks The way his mother used to do. I pondered for an answer I was looking for a clue. Then I turned around and smacked the shit out of him... Like his mother used to do.