Where Once It All Stood
Gone but not forgotten
A travel back in time,
To that place we once called home,
I can picture it in my mind, the house, the family, the good times,
The horror, the defeat, the love, the pride, all we’d ever known.
Will you join on my walk down memory lane,
Picture the perfect family, the joy,
A mother, a father, a sister,
And then me — that little boy.
I stand at the concrete steps,
Holding the rusted handrail,
That’s all that’s left of the place, in the future,
In my mind I can see every wooden plank and shiny nail.
It’s gloomy here in the now,
The trees barren, even dead,
The house is gone, the gardens died,
The parents and sister have passed, but it’s still alive in my head.
I hear the laughter echoing down the hall,
I feel the roughness of every wall under my hand,
I see in my mind the beautiful love between Mum and Dad,
Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to understand.
My memories hear the whistle of a slap,
Feels the burning print upon my bare butt,
Discipline, no longer allowed in this day and age,
Teaching me right from wrong, drilling it into my mind, my gut.
It’s sad to see the desolation in this picture,
Of a place that moulded me into the man I have now become,
Although it no longer exists,
It’ll live on in my memories forever, precious and then some.
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Originally posted on Medium
About the author
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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