A Poem For My Home
Dear old house,
that is no more,
I dream of you each night,
as I snore...
I miss your old
wooden charm
Not like this plastic
tube that does me harm
It erodes my flagging spirit
and sometimes, I
think I hear it...
That comforting creak
of the old wooden stairs
of my old home that
my heart does so seek
If it's partical board
laced with formaldehyde,
and cheap plastic tubs,
that no human could fit in,
if this is something
that sounds good to you
you can buy my new trailer
and I'll go live with that
old lady in the shoe
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