Collage Poem by Dan Brown

Sunshine and sand and glass and rocks,
All swirl within these walls.
The rows of faces watching clocks,
in paper-machéd halls.

A hundred thousand swivel chairs,
all twirling their own way.
Its very futures doubting theirs,
With nothing left to say.

Memories in a toilet stall
and every other square.
Obstacles over which to fall,
And those who should don’t care.

An institution falling down;
Demolished by its own.
The tainted tint of bawdy brown
Is daubed on every stone.