on my own in the empty house my feet echo on the wooden floor the world outside scatters by 2 inches of solid oak door

many years are hazy in minds eye filled in tearful joy at sight of sky i gaze unerringly at times gone by the battles won and ones yet to apply

laughter rings my head and fills my sphere sicken and choke until my insides out roaring laughter of the idiot I appear i’ve loved those times i hear me shout

what is that noise in clanging sentient din more hurtful now that it was before whose tears i taste and in whos shoes i’m in washed up and thrown like rag dolls on the shore

its time to count the profit and the loss the good the bad the ugly and the poor in heaving grunting hatred of the cost and mourning missing everyone some more

the children are the only thing that stay the mark upon the dirt that will endure in hope that they will measure in their way how much we fought each day to give them more

old friends that in the night have come and gone in winter cold and summer heat they haunt the memories that tumble on and on in troubled times unravel and they taunt

we miss the chance to say what’s in our heart and what is said is mostly wasteful dross the impact someone has upon your part that plays across the scene of life and loss

July 2014