Ode to My Wife’s Purse
You hung upon the rack that day
You hung upon the rack that day
So shiny and so new
You shone and sparkled brightly
So that folks would look at you.
Then she came by to pick you up
And add you to her life
Armed with just a credit card
You were purchased by my wife.
You knew that she would love you
For better or for worse
She smiled a smile that truly said
“I’m happy you’re my purse.”
She slung you on her shoulder
You dangled by your strap
And when she finally got you home
She filled you with her crap.
Make-up, Tums, and jewelry
Keys and glasses, too
It seemed there was no limit
To what she’d stuff in you.
So on it went, day after day
She drug you to her work
And to the school, and to the store
She yanked on you and jerked.
She swung you at that hobo
And threw you in the car
She kept on stuffing things in you
Oh what a purse you are!
But time went on, and you got dull
She wanted something ‘hipper’
She had to push in “five more pounds”
She finally broke your zipper.
But still she drug you on her trips
Oh God, oh drat, oh curses!
She stood in downtown Washington
And drooled at brand new purses.
You’d been so good, been there so long
This was the final straw
What now she wanted oh so much
Were knock-offs that she saw.
And now she’s finally had enough
She’s got herself some cash
She’s carrying another purse
And you lay in the trash.
But you will get your vengeance
For that shiny purse so new
Will one day take its place right there
In the landfill next to you.
So thank you, purse, for all you’ve done
So faithful and so true
But now you’re old and useless
And she’s grown tired of you.
This was written about my stepmother's purse. It contains a lot of inside references, but the story is pretty funny.