The Bad Neighbour

in poetry •  7 years ago 

There was once man
who lived on number 8
in a block of flats

He cussed and swore
and he had a
great big snore

He grunted and
he moaned
and he lived on his own

He was in the army they said
never liked a loud bang or clap
reminded him of a gun PAP!!!

My dad saw him on the weekend,
drunk and worn out
we longed for the day he would leave and go out

He was mad; sad; bad
but one thing was for sure
He was never glad

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