Spotted Innocence, You’re no longer white, But instead a dingy grey That shouldn’t be, Your only sin a desire to be more, And when you left you were Sweet saccharine, All china patterns and window hangings, Here you are now, Where is here? Here is the hell, The mundane hell of Mediocrity you can’t escape, Because no one can. There’s no new move to make, And now you’re oriental, A teacup made of jade, Delicate and brittle with No way out of the cupboard. You’re decorative, and I love you, My antiquity, my showpiece. You’ll hate me someday, Just as you hate what I’ve done to you- Children and minivans and a dream come true. Nightmarish to think this is what we wanted. Not thinking for ourselves, But as a pair, not whole ourselves, Always having to consider the other In everything. And you’ll miss being free and lonely, Instead of chained and lonely Like you are now- All alone in a crumbling ivory tower. Rapunzel, rapunzel, Let down your ashen locks, My grey princess, My paragon of Perfected stained innocence. I love you though.