I don’t have a lot, but I’ve got all I need,

A ticket to enter, a program to read,

A wide winding staircase of marble to climb

As I tour the Museum of Time.

My eyes gaze in awe while I wander the halls,

The wealth of the ages affixed to its walls;

But one missing portrait attests to a crime

In the fabled Museum of Time.

The void is so empty it forces a halt,

A work of art absent from memory’s vault –

The graceful aesthetic of Love in Its Prime

Once adorned the Museum of Time.