Of people waiting for the house
They beg they call they try they think they bypass they ask they hope they dream they text they text again they scan they attach not just their aspirations but also their papers their worries they speak they send they email they stare with the corner of their eye each time they pass and finally they realise they’re still no very different than the one at the end
Who knows maybe even they have a stronger chance
For why me?
The ugly unprayered lazy parent disappointing senseless witch
