Under the stirs

It sits under my stairs,
It's been there a few weeks,
Growing more each day,
I put it off and do other stuff,
I hate that thing under my stirs.

I pass it ever day knowing it's there,
Mentaly asking it "to please go away",
I try to block it out as much as I can,
There comes that day and it has to be done.

An hour spending ironing teashirts, trousers and skirts
I hate doing that thing under my stirs,
After an hour I've had enough so I put it away,
I will go clean the toilet I prefer that anyday.