Cling-Clang, Bing-Bang

Oh, the cling and the clang,

And the bing and the bang,

Of the construction zone

That is my home!

Walls ripped open

And still I’m hopin’

For peace and quiet,

Without all the riot

Of nails screeching as hammers yank them out

Sorry to leave their old boards, no doubt.

The dust and debris

Are overwhelming to me,

No peace, no quiet,

Just an ongoing riot

Of destruction

And ongoing construction!

Will it ever end?

Sadly no time soon, my friend–

As long as bandsaws whine

And sawdust lines

Each window and door

And each and every floor,

I doubt I’ll ever see the day

When all this mess finally goes away

It may be that I’ll lose my mind,

In which case I would probably find

That all the dust and dirt and mess

Will become my final nest.

If so, then plant me in a box of pine

And tape up my mouth to stop my whine!






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