Poem -



At the bottom of my road two streets converge and meet 
One of them is called Muswell Street 
All the properties there are prim and proper 
The door handles are made from pure copper 

Muswell Street is where the rich people dwell 
Whereas on my road it's been classed as a living hell 
I don't care much for those pompous rich folk
I'm happy where I am although I'm always broke 

Jealousy and envy they say go hand in hand 
Why that should be I don't fully understand 
I have a roof over my head and food on a plate
Who cares if my property isn't smart or great

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