A Poem for Rent

Today I sing such a sad, sad song.
I think, "What have I done wrong?"
It appears that without my consent
the terrible time arrived, due is my rent!
Money doesn't with land-people belong...

"RENT" is screamed and wrung is the gong,
the ringing in my head goes BONG!  BONG!
Here in my bank account is now a large dent,
Who is there to save me?  Where is Clark Kent?

So I drive to the ATM at a nearby bank,
Pull out my plastic and yell, "I'm sank!"
I place the card into its slot
And hope it gives it back, I need it a lot.
Treacherous and vile, who invented rent?! skank!

I'm paranoid that some mugger's now at my flank
Pulling the classicest of all known prank
That's funny cosmically, to those un-shot,
But much lacking comically, to my current plot.

Safe I appear, though who knows for sure?
I aim back for "home" not really mine!  And what's more!
Loaded and weighted I enter the abode,
I say, "Want my rent money?" ((I'm not one for code...))
She takes it in her hands, and holds twenties galore.

Calmly and casually she retreats behind her door
Coming back with a receipt.  That's all I have in store.
The trade is complete, my roof agrees to not leave me for
anything, in the next month.  "I'll stay too" agrees the floor.