Nothing to complain about.
The walls never had nicer things to say.
The hard work fades,
Comes in monthly raids,
Sleeps behind dusty shades.
The world stopped today.
You were all too busy to notice.
I drew me a watercolour painting of it.
Abstract or something like it.
It looks a little something like...
Close your eyes
For five minutes.
Stairwell grenade becomes bellyache.
As all things do
After long enough.
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