There was no sign of him on Friday and as time grows impatient the cupboard of his presence remains bare. Spiders weave webs over raw nerves where each stray draft tugs the signal of a fly. Yet dust of old hope falls on sticky strands that grow brittle and full of gaping holes. Darkness descends and tomorrow it will be time to clean the closet.
-
Author:
sorenbarrett (
Offline) - Published: July 30th, 2026 02:27
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 125
- Users favorite of this poem: nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson), Tristan Robert Lange, A.N., Moonstruck_1310
- In collections: 100 views or more, loss.
Offline)
Comments11
Good write SB. Yes, I got KP to clean the closet and locked her in there for a while. Well, she kept on about her appearances on TV, radio, in magazines, everywhere! lol.
Thanks Orchi for the read and comment. Yes we did that to an English teacher we had in high school. Locking her in the coat and supply closet at the beginning of class and no one had the courage to let her out.
Beautiful write friend and a fav
Thank you Norman for the read, comment and fave it is deeply appreciated
most welcome
A haunting portrait of absence, unfulfilled expectation, and fading hope.
You have captured it well my friend. Thank you for the read and understanding interpretation it means a lot
You are welcome. Wishing you all the best.
Absence is absolutely haunting and eroding hope and decaying into resignation until the point of acceptance and letting go. 🙏🕊️
Thanks so much Cryptic for the review. You have caught the essence and core of it my friend. Most appreciated
Always put off cleaning out the closet until tomorrow -that way ,hope remains !
A good idea I too never clean things out so I don't realize what has been stolen. Thanks for the read my friend
It is amazing how you can spend all day thinking about doing something, even nearly doing it, but not quite.
I can convince myself that it can wait. For tomorrow's another day.
Thanks Paul for the review and yes it is true procrastination rules. Your words are most valued and appreciated my friend
Soren, this really hit me hard. I know the exhaustion of holding emotional space for someone whose continued absence eventually becomes its own answer. That movement from expectation to self-preservation is quiet, painful, and deeply human. Powerful work, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you Tristan for the read and interpretation of this piece. You have hit the main element of meaning in it and it rings true. That means a lot
Such true words soren.
Andy
Thank you Andy for your read and kind words they are appreciated my friend
It's like when a Loved one dies; there's a great Hole -Void - left in your life. Good Write.
Thank you Kevin you have hit the sore toe again and I appreciate the stubbing my friend. Phantom pain is often worse than when the limb is still present.
My Pleasure.
waiting for someone who promised to return—each small sound makes you think it’s them, but over time even your ability to hope starts to wear out. Eventually, you stop waiting and begin to clear space for something else, even if that act feels heavy. Well Done Soren
Thank you so much my friend your words mean a great deal and are most appreciated.
It's a lovely poem. Love how you displayed the transition between today and tomorrow. Amazing work 🎀
Thank you so much for your read and kind encouragement it is most appreciated Akshadha
It's a pleasure 🙃
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.