Momma was built like skyscrapers

every morning we took cranes up 
to gaze out her cerulean eyes
wipe the dirt of last night festivities
from her brown skin 

we pulled curtain clouds from her windows—
Momma was too afraid 
to let the world gaze into
her 18 floors of gilded cages 

Momma was a skyscraper afraid of heights

men chipped away at her ground level
she fell to meet them 
so they could wrap their arms around her
shattering her light blue glass 

Momma was built like a skyscraper
treated like an old man apartment
too many people knocked on her door
never entered never tried to wipe
the rustic paint off her cracked walls

Momma never believed she was built 
to be a skyscraper 

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