Here in my paper house,
I’m long gone, but I carry on.
For there’s a way down,
A path of tumultuous peril.
I created my neighbors,
to bring crumb cake to.
Today we are all friends.

When I go inside, I notice,
The spectrum of reality loses time.
And I have not one person to blame.
But I think my house is infested.
I created a team of inventors,
to ward off the silent intruders.
Today we are all suspicious.

The inventors thought they might do some good,
by planting a field of orchids in my bed.
I resisted, oh, how I resisted.
My neighbors insisted that I fire the inventors.
In turn, they annihilated my neighbors.
Now, I’ve no one to share my bunt cake with.
Today we are at our wit’s end.

It gets harder to accept the oppressive escalation.
The clocks run timelessly
Though the dials grow tired.
I lay in my fragrant bed.
Sinking my head beneath the soil.
The inventors were right.
Today I am feeling auspicious.

And develop a terrible pressure ulcer.

Oh the life of a wall flower.