Knick knack curio
Dusted they wait
Photos of loved ones
Lined up straight
The don’t eat candies
In their fancy silver dish
The don’t touch treasures
Souvenirs from a trip
Who is welcome
In this sacred chapel?
The don’t sit on sofa
Pillows with don’t-touch tassels
Silent it waits
For once a year days
When we tiptoe in
Hushed reverential strays
The rest of the house
Belongs to the master
The bull amongst china
The children’s disaster
The kitchen to serve
The bedroom to fake
Diet pills wait
In the bathroom to take
Where does the woman
Fit in this house?
A mother, a wife
A low-cut blouse
Nothing is hers
All borrowed and gifted
From all of the men
She expertly assisted
In the name of the guests
Who may ever appear
She lays claim to this room
With it’s crystal chandelier
And sometimes she sits
In its calm clean and quiet
Her living room tears
Shed silently in private
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