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Oh What Bliss;I finally moved out of the home of hell; The year of 2006; my best year! And oh what bliss; oh what peace! And no more dreadful fear! I am settled here and love it! Oh so lucky it is that I am too! For I have a bungalow of my own! Just as of course, I should do! The home of hell made me ill, No respite for me at all! I fought the fight, with all my might! But was always backed against a wall! Then I decided there was nothing for it! But to fight the fight once again! Only this time it was for a safe home of my own! And not to help me through my pain! Pain I can deal with, and have done; It seems, for most of my life! And deal with it I do, it's all I can do! And I always overcome my strife! But this was not a battle of health! This was a battle of will! Just because I look okay! Does not mean that I'm not ill! You see, that was the crux of the problem! My age, or the lack of it I should say! Because I am under 55 years old; They all thought that I was ok! So they refused me an accessible home! To make me safe and live in peace! I needed to move to an adapted home, I needed some basic release! Release from the hell I was trapped in; Release from the bedroom that was home; Release from the fear of falling! Release from the hell that was my home! So they basically implied with that rule; That people of the age I'm at; Can't have so many conditions; Well that misconception knocked me flat! So they deemed that I live in that flat of hell, Because I look okay; but beware, Watch that cover of that book; If you at all even care! Never judge the cover of a book! Because on the outside I look well; But be careful now, don't be fooled, For my health is one of a nightmare hell! Because the cover of that books not reliable! You don't see what's there, inside! So before you judge, take a peep, And see what it is we hide! For we hide many things! Sometimes we have to open the closet door; And bare our soul; like I had to! But it got a result! It embarrassed me; It brought them shame! And I made them look like fools! For that's what they are! We can always go down to their level; But I didn't, I smell of roses; They smell of manure! Mess with the best; Die like the rest! I don't do pis* off very well! If they want to Pis* me off... They need to take the consequence of their actions; I don't suffer fools gladly! Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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