Seen better days… — a poem

Seen better days.

            Scene. Bitter days…

A lot of rot
about what makes
a home —
a home life —
a home like the one this has been.

            Enter. The father, worse for wear. A has-been.

What is left
when whitewash
won’t cover
what ate away
“us”?

A key truth
in all this
is my failure
turning
our love…

            Exeunt all but REGRET.

Leaving
the door ajar.

            No Fanfare. No reentry.

 

* * *

The Sunday Muse