The house

 

It sits on the island of our youth,

Surrounded by the waters we dare not face.

We wander there in our dreams,

Each through our private path.

 

It was our fortress.

We lived, for a moment,

in that world of what was possible.

In that house of what was to come.

In that house of madness,

In that house of joy, and desperation.

 

Where is that house now?

Is it too far away?

Are we lost on the highway?

Are we just sad old souls, dreaming of our youth?

 

No, the house is here.

I swear, it is glowing in my mind.

That shinning diamond.

I see it still.

If you want to tell me how much you love my work, please do.

206-595-6083

© 2017 Charles Freeman

  • Black Twitter Icon
  • Black Facebook Icon
  • Black Instagram Icon