Night
Turns to day
Turns to night
Turns to day
Turns to night
It’s Thursday.
The bins finally are collected.
They open the lid just to inspect it.
This happens all the time
As if they preempted my dirty crime.
Mrs Morris all skin and bone
Squished in there all alone.
I warned you all before
Especially that aul whore.
I don’t give to charity
Stay out of my garden!