The Empty House

I have watched the days pass by, without a glance—

From the vapid window that haunts us all.

Voices flush your newfound grin, erase

The hidden sorrow etched much deeper

Than it was before—a face older than it was

Before.

I have heard the birds ere the dawn of day,

Springtime smiles, to find misery—

We find misery—among the fallen leaves,

Forgetting what it means to be free.

Carefree stories, adhere to rusted jaws,

For I have felt the saddest of days, to contrast

The birth of twists of fate, so dark

And dreary, the words we spoke lose all meaning—

Ai, by the ear of the rabbit, the fox

Has no wisdom to teach—morale to pass.

I have tasted the nectar of defeat—

The all-consuming loathing, that is,

The most bittersweet—the lingering

Scar of the spiteful words we speak.

I have been captivated with the aroma

Of the fallen tree’s decay, the all consuming

Fatigue driven by the beetles that I see—

The insects in the walls, that paint us

Four different shades of green—

Greed, Envy, Jealousy and spite.

I have learned what it is to live again—

Father time has stolen our youth,

On that boardwalk across the sands,

Walk young in the dreams of a jaded life,

Oh, but wouldn’t we just rather sleep?

In the forest that never sleep, four walls

That will never let you be.

See, forget, and speak. Live, forgive and seek.

         DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com