Atlas
Posters plaster the walls of my room
Holding the very structure of the house together
I tear them down to watch the building crumble
Woodstock falls the the floor revealing a gaping hole
The walls have been gone for years
But we all pretended not to notice
Postcards that tell of faraway places
Lay listless among the rubble
Only a reminder of how we stagnate
And I laugh
Knowing that atlas could have dropped the globe at anytime
But was too cowardly to try
This poem is about:
Me
My family