... | final version

WORKS BETTER WHEN PLUGGED

I cannot manage anymore
Though I was so strong afore
A hundredth time I’ve made a trial
To fix that bookcase to the wire
For a true bloke never cries
Until my hand gets stuck and fries !
Now on the carpet do I lie
Still and numb as a drop-dead fly
A dog is licking my bare feet
As if they were some stock of beef
So I must be some dead scoop
If it eats me like some soup
My hair all curled up from fire
Smoked completely wall attire
If I were to think a bit
I’ve always been better fit
Now a weakling and here I’ll stay
I shall never go away
As I work much better plugged
Not to socket but my wife (all the better if I’m hugged)