Letters To You: Poetry Collection

Broken

I've been tracing everything,

Back to our beginning.

Remember our makeshift home?

The cottage we built;

More like a hobbit's burrow,

I loved every moment we spent there.

It's broken now;

The wood charred,

The foliage unclothed,

Another generation,

Building their memories,

In what was once our home.

Yesterday, I visited and saw two kids there,

Playing and giggling,

And then fighting and arguing,

Just like us,

Just like we used to do.

One ran home,

And the other remained, alone.

I approached,

You'd probably think,

"What a weirdo,

Don't be a creep,"

And I'd agree,

But I just wanted to know,

How might you have felt,

Whenever I escaped.

I never got to know.