written by: Jaya Avendel
I dream of gilded houses
But would I be lost under the high ceilings?
Sit in comfort upon the slippery chairs?
Admire the ugly art with wonder?
I dream I am a lady
The dust is a parting wave before me
The stairs are hollow with my tearful steps
The ugly art follows me with admiring eyes
There is strength in my pitiful beauty.
If I stepped from my
Life to another
I might learn to love
To even enjoy
The solitary company of my golden walls and
The conversation of the ugly art.
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