An unfamiliar place with no trace
of anything you can recall.
So many thoughts and ideas
given birth as your mind unearths
sorrow with little hope for a tomorrow.
Webs cobbled in fine silk
milking memories from misty midnight menageries.
Windows to the world, a soulless place
replacing what once was held dear,
here where love blossomed
and sons and daughters grew in tune.
Airy, left in decay – a shell of better days
confiscated youth ripped from our hearts
by upstart degenerates and renegades
where as children we once played.
Zombied now and denigrated
waiting for a wrecking ball or overhaul.
In dreams you find your mind returning,
yearning for what once was your domain.
You can certainly go home again,
but why would you want to?
© Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017