Predjudices Poem - My Tenant
Baggy jeans, casual wear,
earphones on
and I could swear,
a black man's son
will never be my tenant.
"Careless habit of the youth",
I say to my kitten.
"Not the colour of his mouth,
but he wasn't fittin' -
could never be my tenant."
Next was an asian family.
I gasped in horror,
when I see
there muslim hats with sorrow,
will never be my tenants.
I hoped for a common one,
a real nice local lad
just like a son,
then I would be glad.
This would be my tenant!
But my favoured candidate
turned out to be one of their gang -
and now to take the keys back it's too late.
He is whistling in their slang.
But he was my perfect tenant...
