It took him years
to build the strength
to one day venture back

The house, so still
so cold, so ghostly
dressed in solemn black

He could not see
past his childhood of hurt
to find forgiveness in his heart

His only feeling - resentment -
The memories too close
The affection too distant

As he sits across the way
fidgeting, picking at the grass
He ponders his own life

Was he stepping out? Rising above?
Or falling into the deep ruts
of his wayward parents?

Now. his being satisfied,
He was ready to go back
and make his house - a home.