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Only For Rent

Are we home?

By Matthew A. WollPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
1

Only For Rent

I am a house,

Whose roofless expanse

Is a sea of yellow stars;

Particles of me suspended.

I am a house anchored,

Rooted by cemented fear.

Never to float amongst brothers

So long ago extinguished.

Love is found

In the hearth of the heart,

Comfort glow of passions emit,

Soft, muted reds are lit.

Careful, now!

I can flame;

Spitting glowing embers of ash

To scald and stick to skin.

I am a house

If I survive,

All will be swallowed and fade.

Once again by Earth reclaimed.

She consumes past and future whole,

Viny fingers seeping to hold.

She cares not for the house,

Nor for whom it was kept.

She is the house of all.

sad poetry
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