A Forgotten Home
I am a forgotten home
where people fall through slats in
floors wooden, scarred by pulled
furniture. Footprints lost under dust.
I am a derelict building
where industry once flourished.
Fires raged and pallets stacked.
Assembly lines ran in humming circles
eternal now form static loops lost
without worker. Ghost metal halos.
I am a garden overgrown
with crisscrossing blades and
thorns cursing from shadowed trenches.
Mud slops over once shining
pathways like greasy suds spilling from
sink, scrubbing at stains immortal.
I am a hollow man,
a hurt man.
I am a man devoid.
An airless body.
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