City full of buildings
I helped raise.

I stand outside one
Of my eight floor brick

Babies.
The concrete

Behind the
Walls

Of your apartment
Were the walls of my

Workplace for a
Year.

I have stories
From your home

You'll never
Hear.

Not welcome here.
Stranger.

None of my keys
Fit her

Doors anymore,
Now that

She's been
Given

Up for
Adoption.