Monday, February 11, 2019

The Tenants, a poem

The Tenants

The Landlord’s come, we’re long overdue,
our debts are great, our assets few.
We can not pay, He’ll send us away —
our time here is thoroughly through.

That He has cause, never doubt;
He’s seen what mischief we’ve been about.
We cut the trees, we poisoned the seas,
and now He’s come to turn us out.

We’ve nothing left to pay the rent;
our capital has all been spent.
Yes, all our cash, on gaudy trash —
what we received as quickly went.

Oh, He’s been lenient, not strict,
and ever urged peace when we conflict,
but we made a mess and now I guess
there is no choice but to evict.

We’ve been the worst of tenants, it’s true,
a thankless and disreputable crew.
We broke the glass and killed the grass;
the Landlord’s come — we’re thoroughly through.

Stephen Brooke ©2019

Pretty much of a throwaway so I'm throwing it here.

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