June 14th, 2004
In the tower of memory the paintings fill
Some good, some bad, some even ill
One painting after another
Many of just a mother
Seventeen years of art
To fill the tower half torn apart
The paintings of love and desire
The paintings that will soon catch on fire
In the towers tops
Paintings with holes from pops
This tower so much more than mild
Yet owned by a child
In the tower of memory
the paintings just flee
Seventeen years of nothing but art
Left in a tower half torn apart