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

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