Photo credit

Photo credit

…I flew pass my old house today

Hovered above an apple tree

Black snow was falling on the ground

Paint peeling off the garage, striping itself naked

Bearing its soul of heartache and sadness

Not remembering it was once a happy home

…The house is an abandoned eyesore

All the windows are covered with board

I pondered if its to keep the ghosts inside

Or keep them from escaping

Enough seen.

It’s time to fly again, and never return

Let the ghosts wrestle among themselves

I’m free!

I can fly!

I miss my house, but not the life. I’d rather fly everyday with strong wings,

Or flop with a broken one, just not be caged.

Peace my friends.

5:49 PM

Vera Robinson © 2015