Life in Melbourne – The Poem

Consider this not a boast
As it is in no way a toast
When Melbourne has been my host,
Practically every single day has been an incorrigible roast;
Taking the form of a crucible of endurance at times,
And a game of forbearance at others,
Life in Melbourne has perpetually been a tribulation of the highest order;
The shiny veneers of satin on the surface
Cleverly shrouding the grime and the muck underneath,
The polished exteriors
Hiding the grossly incongruous interiors;
Accept it or deny it,
This is probably the most belied bit about life in Melbourne
And there is barely any way I can secure myself from this peril,
Except maybe through persistent tries
Or a stroke of luck;
Lately, however, rare beacons of hope have somehow shone,
And just deserts are starting to be served,
To the culprits who very much deserved;
Melbourne isn’t still a dreamland I thought it would be
But I am starting to survive here
With an earnest hope for the future
That when the culprits are finally put away
I can finally thrive.