Monday 21 April 2014

House a Home


You baseless cads with your aplomb
Pretend you have an atom bomb
The truth is that your phony war
Is much the same as it was before

So much “meh” and “never mind”
As if neutral is not unkind
So famished am I by your neglect
I feel our friendship is now a wreck

Beached on rocks of breakfast, dinners,
Where you judge we are as sinners
Begrudge me one last sliver of meat
Paid for by my hands and feet

My body aches, it is as stone
Caught in mud and left alone
You who bicker and fight and crone
Make it hard to call a house a home.

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