ANOTHER Tale With No End
Breakfast was always hassle... Tristan and Chrys were always a handful.
Constant conflict and commotion...
"Mom! Oatmeal!" too loudly...
"Mom! Grits!" far louder...
"Sure, My Loves..."
Penelope walked into the kitchen sluggishly.
Half asleep and with one eye she reaches for her coffee tin.
EMPTY! MORNING DEMANDS AND THERE IS NO COFFEE !
DUMMMM DUMMM DUMMMMM....
-Madamchryzl-
Rhymes, Writings, and Confessions to Small Crimes 
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