Inchcock Views High-Rise Council Pensioners Flat on the 16th Floor

The other day I went to view an warden aided flat,

To get there I had to be strong and an acrobat,

Top of a hill, it was windy, glad I had me hat,

I found the City Councils Commissariat.

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We went to look at the flat, on the 16^th floor,

I noticed the kicked in panel on the front door,

The place was in a right state, very poor,

Electrics hanging off the wall down to the bare floor,

A smell lingered everywhere, a sweet sickly odour,

Noises from the Romanians living next door.

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A distinct feeling of gloom lingered in the air,

I decided I didn’t want to live there,

Although the view from the window was fair,

I turned on a tap, the water was brown… I despair!

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I caught the wall and the plaster shred,

A lick of paint will sort that, the Commissariat said,

That only made me cringe and exacerbate,

Then under the sink an insect zoo did await!

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The light switch hung off the wall by its wire,

In the front room a non-working electric fire,

The ceiling peeling, electric needing a rewire,

For living here I could not aspire!

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I told the Commissariat Thanks but I don’t think so,

She took it like a mortal lethal blow,

She scowled at me, and don’t you know…

She didn’t speak to me again and let me go.

Hey-ho!