Pause. On the step of open doors.

A list of all befores and an empty list of after

Flaws. Endlessly chime the calculators.

Numbers adding zeros to the cause just to rob you of your laughter.

More. If you step through an open door.

Guilted gold on the floor and walls and they’ll say that’s all you wanted for.

Pause. You turned a voice into a chorus.

Let it define all before us.

Before was fine until the chorus abhorred us, we turned porous.

The floor is weakest in places left damp. And here we stand barely lit by the lamp

As it flickers and wanes against moss and mildew, it won’t do to stew upon what we didn’t maintain, we refrain from making our own gain for the voice we’ve turned into a chorus.

Pause. Before the floor becomes porous.

This time I approached it differently. I wanted to look at the rhyme scheme, poetry and internal rhymes. I also wanted to see how I could bring the rhyme back around to a previous point. This was really fun. I'll be exploring it again to see how I can hone it a little more.