Oakley Pirkle Road

There was a slant to the roof
In my room at Oakley Pirkle
Road. Outside the window
Was the maple tree and the road.

Oh it was a place of refuge. I
Had chicken-pox there, and
Stealthily evaded my mother,
Crouching in my sores and ointment.

My room had a little brother,
One I never had. A symbiote
Attached by way of a dwarven
Door, caddycorner from the window.

There were toys inside the little brother,
And another small window. Once,
I stood naked before it, waiting for
Some passerby to see me. They never did.

There was a slant to the roof
In my room at Oakley Pirkle
Road. Outside the window
Was the maple tree and the road.