Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
My childhood home was beautiful to me, in the same way that chandeliers are beautiful to small children. They shine, but never for them. They were made by adults, for adults. For no other purpose than to stroke their egos. To be able to hold some shining thing over their head and cry, "This is what I bring, See? I have done well, too."
0
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 6:35 AM UTC
ii. childhood home
My childhood home was beautiful to me, in the same way that chandeliers are beautiful to small children. They shine, but never for them. They were made by adults, for adults. For no other purpose than to stroke their egos. To be able to hold some shining thing over their head and cry, "This is what I bring, See? I have done well, too."
the living room, the most beautiful room
oliviajoy
Written by
United States
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 6:35 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem