I DIG NOT

Unwashed dishes, strewn about clothes
I don’t dig a pig sty, and why should I?

You angry?- Take a deep breath and calmly tell me why.
Harsh, earsplitting words, I don’t dig.
A thumping racing heart, hell no, I dig not.

Want help? – It doesn’t hurt to say please.
You sorry? – Say it like you mean it.
You were helped?- Don’t just sit there and smile. A ‘thank you’ would be nice.
You had to burp, didn’t you? Seriously, it’s okay. One question though.
Couldn’t you have asked to be excused?
I don’t dig discourtesy, you see.

It’s so un-cool to hear honking cars, impatient drivers
But, it’s even-more un-cool to be kept waiting.

Communication is important.
But sending forwarded messages isn’t that!
You couldn’t steep any lower or could you?

Oh wait a minute! You did call, you did…
Only to elaborate how busy you’ll be
Tomorrow it’s tight, the day after its damn right watertight…
There are other ways of hanging a person without respite, if you want to!
But this way? I dig not.

Sigh…
I dig none of the above and none of what’s below.

Honesty is condemned.
Trend today is a white lie.
Fidelity is on trial.
Discordance is made an alibi.

I could go on but then I’ll risk sounding like a scary lullaby.