.3. Our Council House Poem by David Threadgold

Distempered walls of darkest green
Shows signs of where the mildews been
Once white tiles now chipped and crazed
Steel window frames not fully glazed

The doors are hanging all askew
With gaps that let the draft come through
Our upstairs floor board’s creek all twisted
The kitchen ceiling that’s always misted

What would it take to make things right
The council says some day they might
They never do they leave things bent
But still expect their council rent



© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes