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Living in the Land of the Lost
In the Land of the Lost, on my floor;folks crazed
A wod jane does yell trash in flush room.; felt miffed
My nerves tense, on this floor -I’m on edge;feel brash
Here 8 months there is no hope in sight; feel stiffed
There’s an old bag here that bums for cash; she’s trash
How to be sane ? I then write poems; do art
Strange sounds comes when my roomy does sleep-old old pfart
I tell him stop it please I crash hard; mind dazed,
Need more cash to live here.I say your; bucks due.
Funds, ask your kin be nice small talk will help you
First two floors and 3 west folks seem not so bad.
I hope the other wards are fairer, am glad,
Nice things to state about the Vigi,caff great.
I like tuna sarnies all dressed please;first rate
I am finished with this poem with much heart .
Copyright ©
Larry mintz
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