The Watchhouse Poem by Jeffrey The Budgie

There is a little house
In which all dreamers in this world
Unite, and watch the herd

Sometimes what's called beauty
Emerges from their pain
And what is lost is happiness
- But this beauty will remain

Cause they took things as they came
They saw things as they were
- Through a lookingglass see shame

With little notebooks in their hands
They watch and they observe
To give the other ones a voice, by them, them only, heard

Sometimes whats called beauty
Emerges from their will to gain
And what is lost is happiness
But this beauty will remain



In their lonely youths
What they saw in their Dreams
That must've been the truth

In their lonely views
They must've seen their sacrifice
Covered in morning duty