Saturday, April 7, 2012

Running Away From Home


He’s never met my son.
I wish he could walk still.
She crossed the line from love to hate a long time ago.
I cried yesterday when the song we once danced to played.
His failing body is the truth he can’t escape.
I sometimes miss my brick neighborhoods.
She never asks why I don’t come.
There’s no room for me there anymore.

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