Our dream holiday – Rotten Poem # 3

Bags are packed, we are ready to fly,
Over the miles to hill-tops high.

Bread, butter, jam we have taken,
Pizzas/burgers are unhealthy when eaten.

The taxi comes late, making us angry,
Baby begins to cry, she is hungry!

The airport is finally in sight,
We unload the luggage with all our might.

Ouch! What a long queue to check-in,
Mars and Venus quibble amid the din.

At last, the uniformed girl greets us,
Takes our e-tickets and creates a fuss.

“You are overweight”, she says to me,
What is her problem, if I’m Kg-ninety ?!!!

“Your luggage is too much”, she loudly says,
We beg and plead, ignoring people’s stares.

She finally agrees to let us load,
The bags we seem to have filled with gold!

So there we are, ready to go,
To our dream destination, our faces aglow.

But the vile woman, serves a fatal blow,
And asks us, for our photo ID to show!

“…we’re not carrying it”, said I,
“Well then Mister, you’re not going to fly”!

“That ain’t fair”, I rave and rant,
“Sorry, Sir”, comes the rehearsed, plastic chant.

After a long scuffle, we finally go,
Back to a familiar “Home-Sweet-Home” door.