Moving On

We didn't come to live here to invest, in stock or build net worth for money's sake I didn't bring my fledglings here to nest imagining the course that life would take. Yet, lashes have been shaved from window panes fresh paint has been applied in dull, drab tints. The scarred up, rocking chair with grape juice stains is gone with photographs and fingerprints. Thin, desperate echoes pace across these walls and trip the strings that bind our anxious hearts and voices follow us in our footfalls that lead to soulful, raw, uncertain starts. The morrow feels as if it's far away, though darkness boldly climbs along my spine our things all packed to move without delay, the things we often touched and declared "mine"... ...but what was "mine" was here within this place; unseen, untouched, unknown to any hands as smiling comfort smoothing each small face that now, in leaving, can not understand that working hard won't always be enough to keep your dreams conditioned and alive and even things more valuable than stuff can't always make transitions and survive... These lessons I don't want to teach or learn, this ache I wonder if I can endure with hollow smiles that can't defeat the burn of fear that comes from being so unsure of how much worth a callous or dream can really have in monetary schemes.