I Suffer In Silence

My daughter’s birthday hand in hand,
With memories of Legoland,
A broken shoe, a bag forgotten,
Could not make my memories rotten.
A hotel room where it would be sheer luck,
To escape lice and bed bugs,
And my patience wearing thin,
With all the lines that we stood in.
But all this would barely matter,
My daughter’s happiness I would rather,
Nor did it dampen the spirits of our foursome,
Lest we think it any less than awesome.
But my soul with Satan I’ll secretly haggle,
To see this place drowned in Kragle.