Turn the key and the flood begins…
All were there to greet me
Happy to see me
Some would run
Wanting my embrace
Years pass
Different doors
Different keys
Different women
Things we owned
Things we shared
Some I loved
Some I used
Some would slap me if they had the chance
If I came walking through their door
And some…I hope
Would tell me they missed me so
Like the cold leftovers
In the fridge
Of this empty home…