Moving house

It starts out neat and ordered
evry-thing is stacked and neat
No hint or indication
of impending dire defeat

All the boxes labelled neatly
are all lined up one by one
And you think you know completely
how this moving job is done

The kitchen things in ‘kitchen box’
It’s all so easy now
But soon your plans will come undone
you wont know why or how

Everything that fit so well
in cupboards that you had
now piles up in a jumbled mess
you feel you’re going mad

Computer cables sorted out
all tied with rubber bands
arrive out at the other end
mixed up by Devil’s hands

The phone line and ‘lectricity
must all be sorted out
Water, gas and postal change
leave little room for doubt

And then you change insurance
and then of course the bond
with all the work you have to do
you think ‘Can I abscond?’

The internet will be turned off
you can’t Facebook your friends
it seems as though the hassles are
a pain that never ends

Now in the new house boxes pile
and Satan rubs his hands
for order turns to chaos fast
and screws up all your plans

You wonder how you ever thought
that moving could be fun
It’s plain and simple misery
delivered by the ton

You sit forlorn amid the piles
of boxes here and there
you want to start to sort it out
but don’t know if you dare

You say “I’ll never move again”
“This caper’s crazy see!”
“I’d rather boil myself in oil”
“It’s staying put for me!”

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Comments

  • Eric Alagan  On January 4, 2012 at 12:40 am

    I can relate to this…the first place I moved into, still had 3 unpacked boxes. I discovered them when packing to move to a new place – 15 years later!

    • livingwithtwins  On January 5, 2012 at 1:01 pm

      Haha, that’s a long time to stay all packed up. Must have been like Christmas unpacking them again. Thankfully our move (that inspired the poem) is just about complete. We had to move over Xmas – not a good time to get anyone to do anything.

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