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Broken window, shattered glass
Invite these two in as they pass
among the eaves and rooftop snow-
Cold and Wind both spritely go
I pull the covers to my chin
against the brisk and howling wind
In our lonely attic loft,
the cot is hard, the pillow soft
I hear the party down the stairs
where friends and family dance in pairs,
but I've been scooted up to bed-
they gave my room to Uncle Fred
One day I'll be a grown up too
and have the fun of a dance or two,
but now I'm young and so I sleep
but now I'm young, and so I sleep.
Not a masterpiece by any means, and certainly not in a league with Tolkien or Frost, but it gives me a handle to write the few paragraphs that I wanted to express.
Is your prose inspired by music, poetry, or art?