A poem that really is about buying a 2 in 1 steam cleaner

Steam Cleaned Dreams

I used to be a dreamer,
crazy plotter, kooky schemer
The world was mine
And I would always be on top

I’d be flying with the birds
One step ahead of mindless herds
So wise yet carefree
Who could stand to see me stop?

Then dreams turned literally to dust
and grime and muck that did disgust
More able homemakers
whose judgements were quite mean

And I would feel quite vexed
While they looked on, perplexed,
“Your world’s so small,
How can it take so long to clean?”

Now? Hell yeah, I’m still a dreamer
I dream of 2 in 1 steam cleaners!
The kitchen’s mine
Who dares to say I’m not on top?

I may not notice passing birds
I may have got lost in the herd
But at least I won’t be beaten
By a mop