Home (a poem)

This is where I live
(where I used to live)
its walls weather beaten, but standing still,
(barely standing)
its windows darkened and dirt-covered.
Though dilapidated and discarded,
it’s still there (almost there) against the horizon.
It’s empty now, save for the memories;
shadows of its former self, its former glory.
An empty shell, home to only cobwebs and forgotten nightmares.
 

Memory Of 98

I enjoyed it.Simple yet striking, an interesting perspective on the unalienable truth that one has an invisible and unshakeable anchor to their beginnings.

crazyhorsecowle

That's deadly,raw and direct. I love it.any more to come?
please?!!!I love writing and only through seeing other people brave enough to put up their poems that is giving me the strength to do likewise,so cheers pal.
Look forward to the next in whatever form it takes.

golden lane

a look back to the past we know
the summers long, and winter's snow
the games we played out in the street
the apples that were red, and sweet

our knees were skinned, our elbows sore
our trousers, coats, and jersey's tore
we proudly showed our battle scars
looked forward, to drinks, in milk bars

our nibs were made of shining brass
our jotters named, and showed our class
we walked, and walked, to show our pride
picked cockles in the ebbing tide

we swam till hunger forced us home
the dublin streets, we loved to roam
at matinee's we watched the flicks
and made rafts, out of ice pop sticks

now all that may, just seem so strange
those years now gone, and so much change
those were the days of yesteryear
though long ago, are still so clear

crazyhorsecowle

I can see it though I was never there,Thanks for sharing it.
I'd love to read more poetry on boards.
So please if you have any more to share I would love to read them.
Thank you.