So the cat has lived in a dump, a dump that most any place can trump, then we moved away from there and go a better lair. But we can easily tell they saved dough when it was built. Why? Stupid things up the hilt.
After you roam.
It is night time.
That's no crime.
Whoops, it's dark.
You missed the mark.
Nearest light switch is 5 feet away and behind a wall.
Don't trip going down the hall.
Cook on the stove,
Maybe some grove.
All I use is the burner,
I'm just a knob turner.
But whoopsy to that.
The bedroom breaker chews the fat.
As in use the stove and it flips off.
Enough to make anyone scoff.
Turn the water to cold,
Where things may not remain bold,
And whoopsy it is hot.
Hot and cold is a guessing game a lot.
Comes with one light bulb out of three.
They may not want you to see.
Then you may learn,
They cut corners at every turn.
The hallways are big enough for a cat.
Otherwise, better hope you aren't fat.
As you aren't getting through.
Can't go two by two.
And then after they save,
No path to riches they pave.
They won't even show,
Not high or oh so low.
Nope, won't be there to take rent.
Then if you don't pay they get bent.
When they are the ones that aren't around,
Even at times when they say they will be found.
But it isn't a dump.
So okay with a bump.
Until the next time at least,
Pat moves us and I act like a scary beast.
It's the little things, right? Pffft day and night. But one can still get by, even with cold when hot to the eye. One just has to know how it will flow. Our 17th move may come soon, or not, to a new sand dune. We shall see what comes to pass for my little rhyming ass.
Later all, have a nice fall.