Walls

Compact is not the word.
Cramped, small, confined, is more likely.
There is no way
Not to share the noises
Of the others.
I have tried cotton wool
But it is no good.
I still hear the sounds,
Just muffled.
And after cooking
There is a stagnant mist
Which hangs.
Three of us,
Four corners
And we are lucky.
I sleep outside
And in the rain
I find joint shelter.
It honors my parents.
The four walls belong to them.
When I am older
I will have five.

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