You can tell it's been a particularly tough day when, while on hold for the third or fourth time trying to find out about this d*mn mirror, I start writing in couplets. I guess it beats swearing, no?
Mirror, mirror for my wall
You seem to be no place at all.
The email says you’ve shipped my way.
Yet you never seem to arrive any day.
Customer service is no help.
They say that you have left the shelf.
They just put my calls on hold
And where you are, I’m never told.
Surely someone will locate you soon
So you can take your spot in the family room.
Otherwise, I’ll find something else for the space
Over the mantel above the fireplace.