From Posting to Poetry

Your Fiorella is having a high ol' time posting a picture of herself, bruises and all, on Facebook every day since she got home form the hospital. She looks absolutely awful--purple bruises creeping down her cheek and neck, which--true to form--make her laugh 😄
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Don't go into Michael's expecting anyone to hear your cries of help for TALL PERSON when you're trying to get something down from a top shelf.  The "music" is so loud that someone could commit a murder in one of the darker aisles and get away with it. Fio finally lassoed  a person taller that she is  by searching up and down the aisles. Luckily, he was the manager and could also guide her to a spray that can water-proof her Tide pumpkins.
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Fiorella didn't get to the post office yesterday to pick up small boxes to ship her DUMP TRUMP buttons off to friends across the nation, but it's at the top of her list today. She also needs to pick up four more bags of dirt, then call her yard man to spread it and plant the Asian Jasmine she bought last week. She can't do too much lifting herself because it would make the goose egg over her left eye pthrob, but maybe Son can help some, although he's handicapped by recovering from hand surgery.
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Still more legal work (groan) has popped up. Fio has to find all sorts of documents pertaining to Husband's car, documents which she's not sure still exist.
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If they're released--
What will THE CHILDREN do
Who've been in jail since they were two
And never taught to read or write,
Thus having no way to reunite