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