A shell
empty, rattling
love sucked dry
web strewn, hewn from
old growth. Memories
packed into corrugated crates,
too late to redeem dreams;
no sentiment remains,
drained of all life, rife
for the wrecking ball’s mercy.
Swift justice never fast enough.
It’s tough thinking of home.
It’s probably just best to leave
well enough alone!
(C) Walter J Wojtanik, 2014