My Flat

I can’t take this any more!
The background noise and slamming door.
This place has really got to me -
It’s too much now for me to flee,
This living hell of cackling laughter -
I’ll hang myself from the nearest rafter,
Where no-one can get to me any more.
Where the background noise and slamming door,
Can no longer be heard,
While those below remain undeterred.

I’ll say why I hate this place:
Why lines now score my face;
Why those below make me clean;
And why the neighbours are so mean;
Why the hassles never cease;
And why I can not live in peace;
The constant building work;
And why everyone here’s a jerk;
Why I’m just the local caretaker;
And yet they think I’m the troublemaker;
And why the landlord’s just a moneymaker;
And why everyone here’s just partying.

I’m sick to death and must get out;
My mental heath is now in doubt.
This place is shit and in a mess,
So at last I must confess,
That I’ve had enough –
Living here is much too tough.
I’ve done my time now in this prison.
My suicide would be just malisson.
So now I write to stop these thoughts,
To try and quieten the rorts,
Which happen all around here:
Year after year after year.