Reliable, useful journalism needs your support.
Over 600 readers have donated over the years, to make articles like this one possible. We need your support to help Citizen Matters sustain and grow. Please do contribute today. Donate now
A house made of glass
That belongs to times past.
Dreaming in the sunshine
In a world now paced rather fast.
The sun, however, rises
Just as it used to do
When people from other shores
Walked around and watched the view.
Twice a year, it gets filled
With an array of dazzling flowers.
But it looks just as beautiful
In its peaceful, empty hours.
Oh, house of glass, lying beneath
A bluu, cloud-mottled sky…
You were a jewel before we were born;
You’ll be a gem after we die.