A house made of glass That belongs to times past. Dreaming in the sunshine In a world now paced rather fast. The sun, however, rises Just as it used to do When people from other shores Walked around and watched the view. Twice a year, it gets filled With an array of dazzling flowers. But it looks just as beautiful In its peaceful, empty hours. Oh, house of glass, lying beneath A bluu, cloud-mottled sky... You were a jewel before we were born; You'll be a gem after we die.
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