An amber room woken with failing light, <br />A box of wine interrupts the busy floor, <br />An ashtray innocently deals death at its fingertips. <br />And one single door stands guard over all. <br />A private penitentiary closed from the outside, <br />Weather would like to visit sometime. <br />But the inmate will have nothing to do with it. <br />A hermit over all that he presides. <br />Floral curtains delet the ancient sky. <br />The windows are punished for their insolence. <br />The roof stands ready overhead, <br />Just in case life decides to try break in. <br />A lonely bookshelf filled with useless books, <br />Holds in its heart the hope of being great. <br />The carpeted desert of the punch-drunk floor <br />Makes for interesting reading when you’re bored. <br />The walls are bare and flaunt their nakedness, <br />As innocent as if they were all pagans, <br />Which if you are religious isn’t very much, <br />How differently we’ll all read this verse.<br /><br />Mathew Lewis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/2a-m-and-nowhere-to-go/
