adventures in dysthymia

Tuesday, July 20, 2004

Drapes and Paint
It's the same room-- I can tell.
The look has changed, the furniture moved
but I've paced off the familiar length,
measured the width, and know my cell.
Yes, yes, I know it too well,
windows, doors, that open only
onto empty mirrors and I
have no existence beyond this spell.
Or this room. I built it,  you know,
for others to decorate. They say,
"Here's something new," "Here's someone new."
But it's the same: they come, they go.
It's always the same. No room to grow,
no room except this room; now you
come carrying bags and say that all
is changed because you wish it so.
Drapes and paint won't do; you should
have brought a hammer if you understood.
Stephen Brooke ©2004
Been watchin' too much Home and Garden TV, I reckons...

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