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Stomping Joe

Every morning when I awake,
I know whats in store, I know whats my fate.

I do my chores trying to be so cool,
lunches packed, kids off to school.

After that its time to go,
I know whats in store what my future holds.

As I approach I quietly tip toe towards the door
My tummy churns I know whats in store.

When I enter, there he sits for now at least
Stomping Joe oh what a beast.

He glares at me with demon eyes,
but that’s what I expected, no its no surprise.

I slowly creep past sending him a smile,
but with no reply I head straight to the files.

As I do my job and try to maintain
whats that I hear I try hard to refrain.

I peek out the door and there he goes,
stomping Joe in his normal pose.

He stomps from left and then to right,
and with each movement he looks at me with such a fight.

There he stomps right out the door,
with wipers in hand to place on that new ford.

In he comes again without any haste,
the stomping is louder with each foot placed.

I try so hard to ignore his sound
as he crossing the floor again with such a bound.

Every day
this is something I endure,
Stomping Joe crossing the floor.

I cant explain what made him this way,
or why on earth this way he plays.

I know inside its been along time,
and soon I wish this craziness would just decline.

Stomping Joe I love you dear,
please stop this crap and come over here.

See me now in front of you
I smile, I talk but you don’t seem to have a clue.

24 years has passed us both by,
and 24 more is in the apple of my eye.

How much longer will Joe not see,
what all this stomping has done to me.


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