Dear Council

Dear Council,

The floors are creaking,

The walls are cracking,

and;

Everything is shaking,

While our new home,

You are delaying.

We know we've been offered it,

And you know,

This old house is subsiding,

Yet,

Still you delay our move;

You gave us August,

Now,

You've changed it to September,

And you haven't given us a clue as to

why!

My husband he is falling,

And this operation is calling,

This situation is serious,

Why are you stalling?

Yesterday,

There was an incident,

And my husband had an accident,

Yet,

Even though we've waited 17 years for you,

You insist on us,

Waiting...

Waiting...

Waiting.

You could tell us to stop complaing,

But;

We must keep nagging,

Our house has been cracking for

years,

Yet you keep on neglecting,

Now;

We've been offered a very good house,

But still the quiet has caught the mouse,

'Operational emergency,'

That was your calling.

We have longed for this,

We have been here too long,

And;

The house has been falling from day one.

Please;

No more silence,

Let us get this done,

Otherwise there will be no more waiting,

Because;

The apocalypse has begun!

This is a complaint.

We finally got a much needed house after 17 years of living in extremely bad housing, and now it is subsiding. We have been through a lot of trauma in this house, and we are excited; only our council changed the moving date, despite the emergency.

Poetry is the only way I can cope without panicking, or feeling traumatised as I have PTSD.

I decided to try and get relief by expressing my feelings in a meaningful, but humorous way.