A Home..

​You were given an old dusty room to call yours, it was nowhere near a home, but you made it better. Applying a floral wallpaper, with pink radiating off of the walls, you brought color into what was once monochrome. Then you hung little lights upon the walls, made everything seem bright. You grabbed your worn-out apron and a few old brushes, you stood high up on a ladder borrowed from the neighbours, you painted a sky filled with an abundance of stars hoping they would light everything up when it was one of those sleepless again, staring ceiling would be easier this time. 
You bought white daisies from the flowershop down the road, he gave you a discount when he saw your shirt losing its shape and ripping at the edges, the dark circles around your eyes and your shoes begging to be thrown away anytime.  You placed them in a vase cracked in the centre, your hands would stick to it because of the cheap glue you applied to keep its pieces into place.

On the way home you bought yourself a chocolate bar, a Kitkat to be exact, it was your reward for turning that dump into a home, a place that you could finally call yours, unlike everything else in this world that just seemed like it wasn’t made for you, or maybe you weren’t made for it. 

All the expensive cars and houses the emported cereals and oat bars they ate, the mansions the live in, sitting on their arses all day watching the world revolve around them, they were kings sat on their thrones, little did they know those very thrones were placed upon the backs of the poor. 

They say poverty is a disease, I say being rich is even worse, it’s like cancer only worse that you don’t lose anything, like your hair you just gain and gain, you save and you spent, and in no time you find yourself rotting six feet under the ground, who knows maybe the grave beside you is hers, who spent her life building a a home, while you built a castle with the click of your fingers.
A single daisy lies upon her grave, while yours is empty, just like the use of the numbers you saved in your bank account, is it fun, I heard that amazon doesn’t deliver underground.-H

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