I hide inside watching from the stained glass eyes    500 shades of red dance with 500 shades of gray    The last festival of humility    With just enough room for a baby's first breath   Mama, Papa don't come home    Arch my recollection in two    Bent over at war with pink porcelain greeting card of the viewing that you see now    Please sign in so it's known who's laughing    Strings from the hair of the eleventh prophet stretched and strung across the smile    Fingering sorrow's harp    My fingers now cracked and blistered    Call the pain master and I'll bow at request    Silver stares back before it browns and crusts    Silver still reflects the spillage    The calm    How many times will I circle this room and yet never move once    Tranquillity of the flesh, water, and tile    Flesh, water, and tile    Flesh, water, and tile    You would think it could get no worse. It will