My life is changing, slowly and rapidly.
Little by little, yet all at once.

As I sit here in a huge house that is not my own,
I'm realizing what my life could be and should have been.
I'm still thankful for what I have,
and appreciative that I've learned to live with horrible luck and nothing expensive.
My family is not in absolute poverty,
but the lower middle class is not exactly the most comfortable zone.
Nevertheless, my parents made our house a home, full of love and sarcastic support.

This house is barren. No children have ever lived here,
just my aunt and uncle and various cats.
It makes me wonder how my life will turn out.
As empty as this house I'm supposed to be watching,
Or as full of love and devotion as my own humble abode?

Who knew a weekend in a beautiful, expensive house could have such an effect on a poor country bumpkin?

Good thing I'm getting paid for this.