By 19/02/2018 May 30th, 2018 Jaz's musings
I liked it more when I was alone

said the mirror to the wardrobe
and the scarlet plastic telephone
screamed at the wood,
“you’re just good for matchsticks,
I can communicate with the world.
Your wood would help to burn us down
while I can help them save us.”

The carpet and the rug spoke up,
they were fed up with the moaning.
“Well folks were walking on our threads
before they started phoning.
Although old Gas lamp was a pain,
and he’s been sold for scrap,
electric light is much too bright,
the modern world feels like a trap,
We’ll try to keep it homely.”

Suddenly the lightbulb shone
as brightly as it could.
Illuminating carpet, mirror,
plastic, rug and wood.
It did not have a voice to speak,
creating shadows on the wall,
but no-one noticed what they meant,
the argument consumed them all.
Don’t waste your time fighting friends,
You may not see the day again.

The house was ancient, fuses old,
a fire started somewhere dark.
It spread quite fast, and humans started,
quickly collecting precious items,
but not the mirror, not the carpet,
nor the rug or wooden wardrobe.
They called the fire brigade but left,
the phone with all the odds and ends.
The timber burned and fed the blaze,
while plastic telephone just melted.

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