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The Nutcase in the White House

There was a house down the street
From the drum where I was born
Painted white, looked like shite
Furniture on the lawn
This funny geezer lived in the house
Done from where I was born
Two sticks short of a bundle
A flake without the corn

He was a strange old fella
Who lived along the road
What was this nutters name
Did anybody know?
He was a strange old geezer
Who lived along the road
He turned his house inside out
Rain or shine or snow

Written in black letters
Across the house front walls
Was ‘This Is The White House”
And loads of other balls
Written in big black letters
On all the houses walls
He thought he ruled the western world
Not too smart at all

Then finally one sunny day
The nutcase was no more
No one every knew
Cos no one went near his front door
That lovely sunny day
When the nutcase became gone
And all thats left is bricks and tiles
A poem and a song

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
This is all about a very strange bloke who lived in my street. he painted his house white and scrawled all sorts of slogans on it including that it was the White House. The title is about him and also the a seat of government, where many nutters have resided and gone
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

about two years ago we had a nutcase living in our white house, too, LOL!

*hugs, Cat

When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

Unless it is some kind of colloquial word for house, home, etc.
I don't understand the use of the word [drum].

You mean [Down] instead of Done?
No one [ever] knew
Funny poem about a strange old bird, I enjoyed it much.
~ Geezer.
.

It seems that the days and hours that people
are available for chatroom are staggered and
not a good match for most everyone. How about
if everyone just shows up at the door, whenever
they have a few free minutes?

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