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