My Museum

Enter my museum,

Statues toppling one over the other,

Paintings hanging side by side,

Filling walls entirely.

It is an odd museum, though.

Entrance is limited and free,

And the pieces too are priceless.

I cannot fathom how they are in excess.

The museum is constantly under construction,

Taking down walls,

Building others.

Always making room for more art.

The museum only allows one customer at a time,

But the one who came in opening day never left.

Sometimes we find him,

In the paintings or as a statue.