The old hometown plays tricks on meKira Braun
In that I hate and love it still;
My hate lies in empty buildings
With fronts falling outward,
In demolished factories and sad hopes destroyed ~
My love clings to the remaining beauty of aged trees
Poised in stark juxtapose to the rubble.
A place I see brings back a memory
A bridge I crossed too often with someone I’d rather forget
Aah, when I’m on that bridge,
the waves of pain wash through me again...
The school I attended is no more,
I’m satisfied that place is gone,
The bullies were relentless there.
One residence brings wistful thoughts
Of simpler times and honest mistakes,
The next place we lived was home for longer,
But given up reluctantly;
The next one was the one I left,
Leaving too young but I was willful and resistant ~
I peer through the fog and try to clear it;
I look for the happy places of my past,
But I will never find them here.
They’re gone, like so many wilted petals
Caught up in the breeze of stale time.