Towers

I have lived in towers I have lived with secondhand dreams that wore out too easily. My father was a basement for hope, mother came with me until she died inside her self-made cage. In the many towers women left as quick as they came. A child was born unto us a young wife for a while flew out of a high window when she returned we moved into a basement, it was a sterile apartment that cared not for our ways and means. In time we climbed a new tower. Now we wave from different rooftops with the same hands that once held us together.