Home delivery pizza: always a treat.
Never has pizza been so bittersweet.
Dinner on the living room floor,
as we just play at being poor.
There’s mud trod in the carpet in each room.
Footprints stick because they took our vacuum.
Took our sofa, table, our beds.
We’ll sleep on a mattress instead.
Pretend sleep as I listen for knocking.
Pray they knock, because the door’s not locking
since they kicked it in when we sat
and ignored the rat-a-tat-tat.
That’s a soundtrack for life, running,
from bailiffs come money-hunting.
That’s a cue for a piggy-bank break in;
That’s one thing they won’t be taking.