Wrong Again (Poetry)

It wasn’t Father’s first mistake
it wouldn’t be his last
and Mother told him off again
as she’d done in the past

He took it well — he always did
no argument or fuss
he didn’t even raise his voice
and shout a bit or cuss

Instead he said “I’m sorry, dear”
and gave a heartfelt sigh
then Mother bustled round while she
considered a reply

“Apology accepted, George
but for the umpteenth time
I wish you would remember that
the strawberry soap is mine

“and please don’t use the yellow towel
when you know yours is blue —
it really isn’t much to ask
what am I s’posed to do?”

Well, Father pondered this awhile
and slowly shook his head
aware that he was in the wrong
no matter what he said

“I’m sorry — I’m a hopeless case ...”
he offered a weak smile
his wife the judge and jury in
his life’s unending trial

It wasn’t Father’s last mistake
(his wrong-doing grew worse)
his fate long sealed — he just endured
this “plainly guilty” curse