Good Girl Gone Bad

Two flats for rent one up one down
in a town jam-packed with countless souls
young and old, jostling for space,
a human race with goals to chase.

 

Chose the upper, settled in;

a bit disturbed by the constant din
from the place downstairs; sound-proofed my flat,
got a well-behaved cat and called him Sin.


Nights were long, the floor was cold,
I grew old and my knees complained,
prayers went unanswered; muttered in vain.
Noise filtered up through cracks in the boards;


hordes of people coming and going,
back and forth; to-ing and fucking,
laughter and jokes; I envied the folks
in their colourful garb and gorgeous fur coats.


Harboured jealousy though tried not to show it
but wouldn’t you know it all of the blokes
had manicured hands and perma tans,
Armani suits and Lotus Elans.


I pondered the life I had chosen to lead;
sweating the beads, fingering the rosary,
this self imposed celibacy, lacking in intimacy,
first floor flat; misplaced supremacy.


Enough of this crap, living upstairs,
pleasing no-one, saying my prayers.
Donned killer heels, red lace underwear
and shimmied on down to the party downstairs.


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