Mom and Dad
Abandon still, feeling weary, ill.
Was once left,
never sought out,
a soul that lay forgotten.
The stench of sorrow taints the wind,
the scent of memories that lay burnt.
A sun turns the house to saw dust,
fake memories burned to powder.
Picture frames lay on the floor,
shattered, scattered, unlike before;
now holding meaning,
for two faces catch my eye.
Two hands entwined,
a woman, a man, a strange mirror of me,
though I have never seen them before,
this pair, these people. . . . .
My heart takes a sickening plunge;
a connection is made in my mind.
I love you Mom, Dad.
Nov. 26, 2009
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