I hide inside watching from the stained glass eyes 
500 shades of red dance with 500 shades of gray 
The last festival of humility 
With just enough room for a baby's first breath
Mama, Papa don't come home 
Arch my recollection in two 
Bent over at war with pink porcelain greeting card of the viewing that you see now 
Please sign in so it's known who's laughing 
Strings from the hair of the eleventh prophet stretched and strung across the smile 
Fingering sorrow's harp 
My fingers now cracked and blistered 
Call the pain master and I'll bow at request 
Silver stares back before it browns and crusts 
Silver still reflects the spillage 
The calm 
How many times will I circle this room and yet never move once 
Tranquillity of the flesh, water, and tile 
Flesh, water, and tile 
Flesh, water, and tile 
You would think it could get no worse. It will
		
			
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