Stinky Fish - a Poem

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Stinky Fish - I pays my rent to the last cent. I keeps my room right clean - but what they do to me is wrong. It's really downright mean. On Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, too, and Thursdays, come to think it, I shake and shudder 'bout the fish that, on each Friday, stink it. Lord in Heaven, hear my prayer, a prayer that I must shout. It's for help with stinky fish. That's what my prayer's about. Friday's coming. Soon. Tomorrow. Those stinky fish (those plates of sorrow.) Don't get me wrong. Our cook is cool. It's me, I guess, who is the fool. So, there you have it, my prayer's done. All good grammar, mistakes none. My prayer's polite. It's purpose right. Help me in this stinkin' war Down with stink forever more. Lord, this is all of that I wish. Save us from those stinky fish. Image: Pixabay.com