In this funeral home the time stands still. In one room it is always 3:00. In the other it's 10:00.
The victorian chairs and couches.
The grand piano,
The rose colored carpet
That spans the legnth of the place.
The darkened upstairs where no one should go.
The 'ladies' and 'gentlemen' signs that adorn the bathroom doors.
Egyptian border at the top of the walls. The flawless white walls.
Then the awkard red fire alarms on them.
Chandeleers of gold,
Paintings to match the era.
Over priced statues, ment to feel authentic.
The mirriors; looming and open.
A mirrior in every room.
They, too, contain time.
Oh the tears this place has seen.
Then the underground layer,
where people can go and talk freely,
ever present coffee.
Time is stopped.
Cold air flows throughout.
But causes not even a mild discomfort.
This place has such a homely feel.
One room to remember,
One hundred to forget.