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Free To Roam
When devouring a hot chicken pie
An advertised flat caught my eye,
I would hazard a guess
Judging from its address
That the asking price wasn’t too high.
I collapsed in a state of deep gloom
When the landlord denied me that room,
He said “Nothing’s worse
Than a chap who writes verse!”
Within minutes I started to fume.
After snatching some six hours of sleep
I thought I should challenge that creep,
For with scant explanation
His discrimination
Might cause a young snowflake to weep.
I knew I should counter his crime
With an angry yet passionate rhyme,
He was powerful and scary
And so arbitrary,
And his property’s well past its prime.
My letter, dispatched the next day,
Employed words that I’d rather not say
(They are not in the bible),
Then he sued me for libel,
So his rent I’m not able to pay.
So the lesson is easy to see -
Do not venture to write poetry.
It could end in defeat
Then you’re stuck on the street,
Simply begging for coffee or tea.
Copyright ©
John Davison
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