Home Alone.

The leaves, all fallen deeply,
how their wasted frames so remind me of home.

Remembering you, pretending not to feel the loneliness of living alone humming, those tuneless little ditties that once caught your young girls attraction.

Damaged, like a single flower,
left forgotten in those cold November rains of absent misbehaviour.

I worked hard keeping the belief
that someday you would steal away – no inward struggle no indication that you, had once stepped this way

In those lies I still find my strength yet deep, in my distant childhood memories
I know:

Your real, unhappy truth...