Bills, Bills, boil, boil toil and trouble,
The bloody council tax bill burst my bubble.The gas and the excessive water rates,
Has got me stressed, in quite a state.
Quickened my heart and quickened the pace,
As this here wench is in the rat race.
Wonga or other payday loaners wear out my purse.
I make a potion, cast a spell and make a curse,
For getting paid but not meeting my needs,
Or any other hungry mouths I feed.
A night’s dream turns from sweet to sour
As they change the locks and cut off the power.
Maybe this much ado about a bill not paid,
Not sure if the Bard were alive today he’d have stayed.
“More” is Dickensian and not Shakespearian,
But alas there’s never enough unless you’re Kardashian.