While sitting home in my den
little comfort, I often find.
For the other denizens
find my nerves so fun to bind.
The Dread-Witch breaks down my door
with a monstrous thump.
And the Imp skids across my floor
howling of his "lady-lumps".
I love my neighbors,
though bad as they can be.
But I am frank, and I must say
they all bother me!
This poem is about living at home with my family. It is a mockery of a metaphore, comparing it to hell. The lady lumps quote is from my little brother and his horrid taste in music. He is eight.
Again please rate and comment. I love positive criticism.
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