802 Bun Drive
Bun drive in Woolsbury, Horshire
With its crooked sign dripping with water
A doorbell oiled and glistening with an odd feeling of warmth
As if this was done to hide all the beautiful mess underneath
Like when an eraser hides the mistakes one makes
But these mistakes should be highlighted
for they are a part of one's identity
I knocked once but nothing happened
And I thought he may not be home
Welcome I said to myself
Even without a welcome sign or mat
I just knew welcome was to be imagined in our heads
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 12:47 PM UTC
802 Bun Drive
Bun drive in Woolsbury, Horshire
With its crooked sign dripping with water
A doorbell oiled and glistening with an odd feeling of warmth
As if this was done to hide all the beautiful mess underneath
Like when an eraser hides the mistakes one makes
But these mistakes should be highlighted
for they are a part of one's identity
I knocked once but nothing happened
And I thought he may not be home
Welcome I said to myself
Even without a welcome sign or mat
I just knew welcome was to be imagined in our heads
when a house is so welcoming...
this is an excerpt from my poem story called Mr.Mashoo
