Sun is setting, Feet are fueled up...with enthusiasm Thoughts are filled with pictured expectations, To be met at the door with warm hugs and kisses A hot meal on the table...steaming coffee awaits All these, comfort my fatigued limbs and minds. A smile, in anticipation ...a sense of ***** Atmosphere tickle my mind...i hurry To enter my safe ground...my comfort zone My own White Picket Fences. || || || || |\ || \| // || || They may have tiny fractures Some boards missing, broken, or collapsed, Its concrete floors and walls may be creviced I can not shun........or hide from Imperfect truths, about my family, Our relationships, our health.....every truth About my loved ones and me...
It is where i come home to... After each struggle's end My feet and mind take me back...to my own, My known familial boundaries...
An inner force spurs me to make those broken boards Upright...firm once again......like hardwood trees, Be unshaken by water and wind....be unwavering Then, i repaint them ...to bring back the glow.
Some broken fences could still be fixed some are worthy of fixing; but, There are those that seem to be, beyond repair needing some kind of intervention. /| || || // |/ \ ||