Unfinished Poem

There's some mold in my sink
that's making a most terrible stink.
It most probably reached this condition
due to my ongoing and long-standing tradition
of not caring one jot.

Imagine on Tuesday my surprise
when from the mould, life did arise!
Squeaky-high voices at first,
I thought Schizophrenia! or worse-
but then I realised where it came from.

By Wednesday noon, an ambassador came out
and started to shout-
we want our independence
for us and all of our descendants.
So I said I'd think about it.

So in the mean time

by about Thursday teatime
the ambassador returned and placed in my hands
a list of their demands
I said "My god, you're so small."

He said "So what do you think?"
I said "I'm amazed you can get out of the sink-
What are you a millimetre tall?"
The ambassador seemed appalled.
I think I hurt his tiny feelings.

On Friday morning
suddenly without warning
the mould declared war
and by about a quarter to four
I had just about managed to stop laughing.

Saturday, half past five
I was now not so amused, but still alive
But the kitchen sink goo
had signed a unified treaty with some gunk from the loo
And things were starting to look hairy.