hate to give credit to a dead man
but after his passing,
a home has not existed
a troubled widow and a daughter who grew up too fast
settling in the shells of past happiness
a neglectful widow and a daughter who is trying her best
orchestrating a new web to lay the life she desired on
a new beginning being born as her past finds fulfillment in the thought of no longer existing
not needed, no longer necessary, no more emotional baggage to have others carry
what more could you ask for?
hate to exhibit grief for a dead man
but after his passing,
a daughter who finally had her shackles released
hasn't experienced freedom
or a clean system
a daughter who can no longer connect her blood line
lost a distracted widow in her own maze
and becomes more hollow with each conversation
a daughter with a patchy memory
replays the times when the dog comfortably layed on well-kept carpet
and got lost in thought in the comfort of something called a family
hate to wish for the return of a dead man
but after his passing,
a childless widow doesn't pray to his ashes anymore and a daughter with heavy shoulders doesn't remember the last time she had a home
contentment doesn't change the title of a house
a home is wherever fulfillment is, not the building