Dwelling

Fränz Müller

The lights have long since burned out;

their fixtures cracking and decayed.

The plaster falls in small, fragile pieces;

the heavy beams have begun to rot.

The scarlet paint has worn away,

the floor assuming a treacherous sag.

Visitors come and, seeing the ruin

turn and go.  If only they knew

that I am still here.

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Comments +

Comments2

  • sorenbarrett

    Great metaphor of a relationship gone past decay to rot and still one remains just as the parts of the house still remains. Whether memories or attempts to hang on they continue hang on. Very well done

  • sorenbarrett



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