The house that was supposed to be,
Lies in cobwebs, I could never see.
A man of plenty experience wonders,
How could life become what it has come to be?
Pushed in here with love,
And expectations for a more mature me,
Naive people, unaware of the worldly ways,
Expected me to grow, as I learn to be.
Somebody should make sure,
A mausoleum is built here for me.
My well wishers thought it would be a cradle,
My grave here is what they will see.
And to anyone willing to consider my offer,
Reach out to me, I will pay a handsome fee.
