My friend's house is perfect, <br />they lead such perfect lives. <br />Curtains never out of place <br />and beds are made by 9. <br /> <br />The bathroom is in cream, <br />the toilet seat stays down. <br />There's tiny little ornaments <br />and soap balls all around. <br /> <br />My friend's house is perfect, <br />you dare not move a thing <br />for if you did they'd notice, <br />a tad embarrassing. <br /> <br />They dine at 6, no later <br />and then at half past eight <br />they have a cup of Earl Grey <br />and slithers of cream cake. <br /> <br />They talk of trivial matters, <br />the world evaporates. <br />Inside their house its perfect, <br />the world outside can wait. <br /> <br />That's why I run for cover, <br />right back here, alone. <br />It may not be quite perfect <br />but there's no place like home.<br /><br />Ruth Walters<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-place-like-home-12/
