Ater the fall

Remember my garden that wonderful place.
Well now it’s winter and gone without trace.
The space where I am is musty and old.
Reminiscent of tenants who’s plights to dire to be told.

I stand in a dark room in a concrete block.
Fifteen floors up above the liquor shop.

I feel mocked, betrayed, dejected, dismayed.
I would have more freedom even to be born a slave

I peer out of the exhaust fumed dirty window
And stare below at were they sell endo.

My gaze is interrupted and I stare into space
And wonder how I could have fallen so far from grace.

My wife is no longer by my side.
With her warm smile
Her flowing hair
Her Sauvé fair.
No she is long gone
The pain too much for her to bear.

My mind casts back to slender grass
Now city streets and broken glass
Nightmare dreams and living fast

Inside I given up the will to live
Amid this corruption that haunts me still
Derelict building and broken dreams.
Some how what is now, surreal so it seems

On my hands and knees I grope amid
Beer cans and needles

Desperate I search for a bygone season.
Now all I have left is rhyme and no reason.