Her happiness I have to guess

is rare, yet here's a clue

she is never happy unless

she is telling me what to do

 

She is the commander of my life

her orders are the glue

that hold this thing together

without Her what would we do

 

I am considered infantile

about the age of two

I've learned to walk but that is it

all else is something new

 

Since I have no brain at all

She's using hers in lieu

she tells me how and when and where

as if I never knew

 

The epitome of stupidity

can't dress or tie my shoes

you'd think it was senility

that I was coming to

 

Yet wives are indispensable 

she tells me that it's true

the fact is that by writing this

myself, I might have screwed.

 

~Po Wit

*written from a hospital bed, condition now stable.