Ahh, there it is.
That old but bold,
Rolled and hold-up
Haven of mold and decay.
Like I never left it,
Festered and prolific
The round hole for my square peg of happiness.

I’ve spent my whole life alone,
Trying to atone for whatever flaws shown
Knowing it’s for nothing.
I had a sniff once, the barest taste of other.
And now it haunts like a Dancer flaunts
Exquisite and impossible to ignore.