Crusted juice and puree of gummi,
contents of the cup-holders weren't yummy.
Forty different little toys,
long-car-ride entertainment ploys
Crushed-up goldfish, flake of bread,
an Arby's curly fry, long-since dead.
Stains in the carpet, substance on the chairs,
this poor blue van has seen its fair share.
The vacuum's monstrous appetite was satisfied;
when I looked at my cleaning cloth I nearly cried.
The moral of this poem I don't really need to say:
Don't put off 'til tomorrow what you SHOULD be doing today!