Partly, I Guess

If:

The garden withers and clockwork stops
Hanging ceiling lamps begin to drop
Stairs collapse, hinges rust
Wooden doors are shredded to dust
Wallpaper hangs in moldy lumps
Filth and grime gathers in clumps
The kitchen walls blacken with smouldering smoke
Floorboards and carpets sluggishly soak
Water flows though I close the tap
The drainpipes moan as they burst and crack
Ceramic tiles smash and shatter
Bed sheets are ripped and torn to tatters
My hallway mirror reflection is permanently maimed
The antique coffee table goes up in flames
Fruit on the mantelpiece begins to rot
Stench rises from waste bins forgot

If brick by boring brick it all came down
Would I be upset?
Partly, I guess

But pick, and pry, and poke, and snide, and impose, and intrude, and snub, and snoop, and judge, and gut my little accumulated creative wealth
Then watch me collapse into myself