It started at nine o’clock,
Went on into the night,
Music boomed in every room,
The place looked a sight.
But still the music carried on,
And drove the neighbours mad,
The police arrived on site,
And that’s when things went bad.
The relentless music hit the walls,
People danced and began to fall,
The house seemed to throb and thrive,
Yet more were still to arrive.
But still the music carried on,
And drove the neighbours mad,
The police arrived on site,
And that’s when things went bad.
And then the music stopped,
With one final blare,
After doing an eight hour shift.
‘Party over’ was declared,
Stains in every corner,
Smeared by the door,
Lipstick on glasses,
Crumb’s on the floor,
Hours of cleaning,
New carpets to be sought,
Broken glass to be swept,
And a new stereo to be bought.
© Michael Moorcroft July 28th 2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is an excellent poem, it made me smile too.Well done!