Panel Town - Courtyard Trails

Blumi - Dresden
In the great big house with wooden panels and high mirrors,
Old people are talking low, nurturing a life that is not mine.
Sunday is falling smugly over the young couples and scrawny babies
Queuing up for ice cream after a perfect day in the park.
The life I want is running through me like a sick river,
Making my skin twitch as I speak to a snotty grandmother.
I wanted to please you but you like sweet drunken girls,
Running around, leaving a trail of belongings,
Eyes to the heavens as the night passes by.
I didn't look crazy or sweetly drunk. I looked strong and decided.