Yo wutup, wutup? Enjoy.... the lost house by henry cedric mcinnis just another visitor, much like the rarity of those before, came upon some fixed tangles in the wood, a troubled listener, touched by the clarity, approached the torn frame, with some conflicted angles it stood, who would do this, how could they do this, dont tell me, somebody, anybody, knew this, few should view this, childhood play, lose this? no! hell be come, hardly choose this, pictures left on the wall in a dilapidated, forgotten house, abandoned faces still smile, if youre left on the wall, its as if you hated your lot in life, ran from places reviled, saddened walls strain to remain just long enough for someone, anyones return, to be reclaimed, hadnt all the pain truly gained love, songs be such where ones lungs be burned from the shame, torn, tattered, discolored, ageless feelings swell, old glories light up until the last ones talked out, more scattered with others, images still retell old stories right up until the last one.... walked out, heavy hearts with time passing on; the babies, women, children, the young men, elders, the pets, all sought out, they departed, minds flashing on the way memories often shield them from themselves or the best of all fallout, one picture is worth a thousand words but one word can change that picture, tried and true, with never to doubt the cost, stunned fixtures whisper of times that were, love once shared and gained, or can pictures hide the truth?,whichever.... the house is lost. just another visit, just another stranger, just another memory free of concern and meant to fade day, but what of the missing?, what of the tangled?, where was the symmetry?, he just turned and went straight away,
Posted on: Fri, 31 Jan 2014 04:24:57 +0000
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