Curtains, you cover my modesty
Hide my imperfections,
You keep the warmth in, the heat out.
You stop me seeing the rain,
Shut out the traffic
Such a simple invention.
You divide rooms,
Seperate scenes in plays,
And yet you remain unremarked.
You can be cut down to make a dress
Or a gown.
You protect tapestries and paintings
From harsh sun.
You fade in sunlight
Get moth eaten
Eventually fade and die
Then it’s “curtains” for you!
Mallaband-Brown 
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