She bought a flat
In the sparkling town.
Made of brick,
Vines running down.
She dressed it up
In shades of green,
rugs on the floor
like a Persian queen.
She hung down lights
that twinkled merry,
painted the door
like a trampled berry.
She lit a fire
In the mortared hearth
and soaked in mugs
of copper warmth.
And when the morning
came and went,
she left the flat
to go be spent.
She spent the day
at a plastic desk
where the phone kept ringing,
the callers brisk.
She spent her dimes
to repay her loans,
and joined the masses
in their moans.
She spent her tears
in a bathroom stall,
when the man who loved her
didn’t love her at all.
She came back home
to the little flat,
cried to sleep
curled like a cat.
And in the morning
when the sun rose red,
she rose up like it
to do it all again.
She left the flat
and her insides groaned
with the hunger pains
of an empty home.
This reminds me of Taylor Swift’s song ‘Red’
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Hmm… I did not think about that! Haha thank you!
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