Cobweb encrusted,
hinges rusted.
Windows “busted” and the floor
can’t be trusted.

Left to her decay,
in her day she was
a warm and comforting lady.
But she became shady,

left to the elements
and termites. Dry rot
is not her best attribute.
And they dispute her future.

Left to die a slow
and painful death:
ashes-to-ashes, dust-to
dust covered remnants

of former tenants.
A tragedy told in memories
and sad tales… she never fails
to foist her depression

on feeble hearts. Praying
for the wrecking ball’s
retribution, a solution no more
destructive than her current state.

And she lies in wait,
this storied soul, never
in control of her fate,
now it appears to be much too late.

© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2016

Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge – Day 10: TRAGIC


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