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Link Details for: | Moving Day |
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| Link ID# | 121 |
| Link URL | http:// |
| Submited By | Bedford E. Frank Palmer II (B-Frank) |
| Added On | Mon_Jun_14__2004 |
Description:
I look at this empty room Walls bare, A patchwork of unevenly faded off-white paint Sunlight shimmering in dusty air, Through open curtains. The mock wood tiled floor Scuffed with years of use, Steady underneath my feet. The faint smell of musk And mold. That tells you that people lived here. That children played here. That there was laughter and sorrow here. That a mother worried for her son here. That a trust was betrayed here. Who could know that here, Someone had sex for the first time? Or dealt with death for the first time? Or that right here, Is where she learned to read? Or that right here, Is where they made him bleed? Here is where they hoped, And dreamed, And prayed. And here is where they cursed, Desperately wanting to get away. Here is a place of joy, And happiness, And longing, And loving. A place of warmth and family. And of terrible grief, And pain, And boredom, And loneliness. This room, With its empty closets and cobwebbed corners, Played upon by absent minded breezes, Flowing through an old, neglected window. This little room, At once meaningless and all encompassing. Stripped of its nuance, Its context, Its life... It kinda makes me sad. But I guess that’s ok. At least I remember. |
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