Paupers House

The doormat says welcome,

The door is never closed,

With strength it’s never forced,

Flower garden surrounds,

The harvest is in plenty,

Because no flower is eaten.

The room is full of life’s,

Roaches and rats have wives,

All sharing the hive,

The spoon, plate, fork and a knife,

For that is their dive.

The walls tremble when the wind blows,

As it is built so,

Too bright is the room for,

It is thought it was built near the sun soar,

When the rains falls, oh

 It creeps in slow,
  And hits the earthed ground low.