Evicted/Invited? (Part 1 of 2)
Inspiration hits with a flash, stories written on the go. A rumble of laughter and the tale is heard only in echoes. The wind blows me in a new direction. Whom shall I visit next?
The cellar room I once called home
Far out of sight, a site alone
Cannot remain a haven now:
This mouse’s nest now fears the plough
My life’s disrupted, cleft in twain
Will ever I find home again?
I am uprooted, limbs are pruned
My misery no more entombed
Where may I run? What haven waits?
My harrassed mind holds its debates
As nervously I scan each face
For known pursuers, falsened grace
No one I know of thinks of me
Or hopes my visage soon to see;
No one once friendly, now moved on,
Would smile to spy me in their lawn
I miss my warren, dark and close
I miss that sanctum so morose
I’d rather perish underground
Than Trust again feigned friends I’ve found
But no place knows my scent or step
And handholds heal ere fingers grip
So, most exposed, unfended, I
Lay ‘gainst life’s surface, there to cry
The passing throng might kick or stumble
On my heart, to keep me humble.
A pest to poison, fly to swat;
A filthy stain. Out! Out, damned spot!
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
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