When my home was new, nothing was askew, the whole world was bright
As time past, I assumed forever it would last, unwilling to see growing blight
But from abuse, a tile was loose, in the middle of the main walkway
Without respect, I did neglect, its maintanence I did betray
Although advised, it would be wise, to fix what was a defect
Procrastination, led to deterioration, that I did not expect
Finally the tile did peel, to below reveal, a chasm in the foundation
A cancer was the answer, a hole in the soul, was its causation
Grown inside, where for years it did hide, until now beyond repair
Unable to replace, such a familiar place, there is nothing like home anywhere
Memory; now a cemetary, for what was once a home bursting with hope and joy
All the while, overlooking a crack in the tile, alowing disregard my life to destroy
I failed to respect, what I was entrusted to protect, as owner of this home
Too old I am, to start over again, forever doomed through empty rooms to roam
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Offline) - Published: October 17th, 2022 06:54
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
- User favorite of this poem: Paul Bell.
Offline)
Comments2
Procrastination is a great word, but I feel this house hides more than neglect, and time just added to the decay.
Thank you Paul for your review and comment. Initial faults always aid in the rapidity of deterioration.
Dear friend I find this incredible on so many levels. I love the wonderful rhyming pattern that allows it flow so freely. The loose tile can be an analogy for so many things that we choose to ignore in life, or cannot face. Thought provoking and a fav!
Thank you so much Bella for your review and insightful comment. You were absolutely right the tile was an analogy for just that, what should have been attended to some time before. Just as the home is metaphor for relationships in general.
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