
From the outside you are so old,
But something about you feels so gold.
Your walls are cracked and windows are smashed,
As you stand so proud a testament to time that once crashed.
I walk inside your crumbling walls that hold so many stories.
Reading all the colourful paints that hide the cracks and age,
I walk out onto what feels like a creaky stage.
The holes above where windows once watched a play,
I wish I was here on that day.
Endless rows of velvet seats,
Rotten table where people would once eat.
Curtains still hang from metal a rail,
Looking over me like a ships sail.
I walk amongst the costume stands like statues stuck in time,
I wonder how it looked when in its prime.
There is a slight beauty here although it is a mess.
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