A short poem inspired from talking about Levittown today in class. Thanks, Dr. Terman. :D My house is your house. And your house is— My house? Okay. Want to trade? Our insides are different. We can still stand on the Same lawn and admire The dawn where the Green blades catch Droplets—yes, the Very same ones, six Inches from the street. My house is your house. And aren’t we supposed To love it? Okay. Want to come over? Our insides are different. You can still look out The front window And feel right at home. Look across the street To where the children Are growing up so fast, Hey, mine did, too. My house is your house. And I can feel a sense Of unity? Okay. Want to settle down? Our insides are the same. After all, who told you Life would be better When you chose to Surrender to conformity? No one’s complaining When they can’t see Beyond their perfect box.
Posted on: Fri, 31 Jan 2014 01:13:41 +0000