Forms (Fun Poem 38)
Our lives are filled with forms
we have to fill in, almost on a daily basis.
Most want a detailed description
of our entire life.
Date of birth, date of death.
You silly iriots if I was dead
I wouldn’t be filling in this form!
What about some of the other silly questions they ask.
There is always one or two.
What gender are you male, female or other.
If other, please explain.
I scratched my head.
I am a cross between a mongoose
and a little green man.
Why must they always put other
when they ask a question?
How do you get to work,
walk, bike, bus, train, car or other.
A friend came across that question once.
He simply ticked other and then went on to explain
that he went to work on an egg.
Now about these forms
that seem to dominate our lives.
During our lifetime,
we probably fill in enough forms
to stretch around the world and back again
if they were placed end to end.
Writer’s moan about writer’s cramp,
I moan about form cramp and that is that.
poem by David Harris
Added by Poetry Lover
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