Wooden Voices

Wooden voices hollowed out decline Reject reality inclinations Floor boards and walls ache with pain, paint and clutter An empty room stands rejected Becomes resigned, exposed to portals of lost time What once was a pink apartment poor Bums inhabit now from gutters Live like kings for a week Yellowed walls draw attention in a frown To a cancer for a chance of being rented One burnt out light hangs in the chamber Not on center stage but from the ceiling Feeling every bit of gray from age Filaments of light bulbs don't discriminate Tenements collapse and so do they A map is not required in the dark Floors seek no approval Sounds creak That is enough to find your way about