An elderly lady lives next door,
On the same floor.
She scares me sometimes,
And I'm not just saying this,
So this poem rhymes.
The elderly lady curses a lot,
I'm exaggerating this not,
She uses language fowl,
It often comes out as a howl.
To drown her voice,
I put on music real loud,
Because seriously,
I have no other choice.
The End
Monday, April 5, 2010
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