Four walls spotted
With dingy filth from the workers
Blue drip sanitation its only
defense
Someone has scratched the word
love into the wall
But who on earth could love
someone in this room?
Maybe it was just something
pleasant to say
In an unpleasant time
To make someone feel loved
Or maybe not
Fire sprinklers hang from the
ceiling
They look like dust covered spurs
from a cowboy boot
Red wax in their center waits for
the temperature to climb
So it can melt and extinguish the
flames with cool comical antifreeze
But that day may never come
Yet, it hangs patiently just in
case
The sink is as dirty as the walls
Maybe more so
It drips in pain
Wishing it had a better life than
this room
With its dirty uneven floor and
its florescent blinking light
But don’t we all at times?
Even when we have everything
Or at least more than we
appreciate
I leave this room with its fan
still spinning till the next time I need it again
The next time
This poem is from my book : Petals Falling
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