The Gilded Age chandelier sways with heavy footfalls
A second story party alive up above our heads
Muffled sounds of twisted wires & funeral pyres
A library collecting books never meant to be read
The structure of our mistakes & dislodged memories
Watching the faint dust drifting down from the ceiling
Casting the power of a pleasant word into the fray
In the end, we’re left with kindness that’s rather appealing
Captain Q 
Fantastic!
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Thank you! Hope you’re well.
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Hanging in there. I went private and sent you an invite.
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Thank you. I’ll go look for it. As you can see, I’m behind on my correspondence
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