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!


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  • Published 4 years ago.
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