It’s hard to be back.
The feeling’s so strange.
It’s unrecognizable
from times long gone by

The rooms—full of dust
as the breeze creeps through cracks
in sturdy brick walls.
Finally crumbling.

The chandelier has fallen
broken
with a golden leash
bound to get lost

The table has wandered
from one room to the last
leaving trails of its travels
until it fell like the rest

A stairwell forgotten
has hidden from all.
With determination
it stands for that
which is lost

Hidden beneath the brown banister
lays my box.
here it stays.
Full of memories.
Stolen.