Hotel’s by Mr Miller Poetry

Me and many others have fond memories of these,

You mess up your room and when you come back it’s sparkling with new sheets.

It’s your home for a few day’s but we don’t treat them as if they were

we treat them as if we were royalty, from the state of the room i can infer.

I once stayed in the hotel in the south of Palma de Malorca,

I was 4-5 years old and I didn’t understand “grown up talk” yet,

I heard some odd noises that kept me up through the night,

but if I recall correctly I wouldn’t have been pleased there at this age I bet.