I am flawed but don’t think of me any less
Because we all are, so be my guest.
I’ll take you to a tour in the palace I built
Which has been broken and repaired, more times than I can think.
It’s bright and colourful on the outside
But beware! As you go deeper it’s covered in slime
So let me show you the walls and floors
And at the same time block the entrance to the doors.
You may not notice my absence,
but I secretly hope you do.
I hope you ask me, what I am hiding
inside the dome.
And I might give you a sneak peak of what’s inside.
A couch by the fire, a book on its side.
Walls painted dull is all you will find.
No one’s forcing you to stay, you may leave.
It will be better for both you and me.
But if you “choose” to stay, better abide by the rules
And promise to never leave me stranded alone in my room.
Promises? Sometimes I even laugh at myself
For believing in such a pathetic word in itself.
You go deeper, you want to explore.
Hollowness is all that comes close.
You change your mind, pack up your things.
You leave the room, all that is left is the string.
The leaf of a plant withers and falls off, and just like that
Another part of the place drops off.
I try to mend it, glue it back together.
Over time the glue strengthens and the pieces don’t fall apart altogether.
But still there are cracks,
which are meant to there forever.
And I sit here on the old couch by the fire,
waiting for the next version of you, listening to a choir.
It’s a new start, a new day
Everything may be broken but it still stays.
Rooms are waiting to be filled again
And in the withered plant,
a new leaf is born despite the acid rain.