shack

I bet you switch the porch light on at night.
It’s been so long since you asked me to leave that I wouldn’t reconise it.
I wouldn’t even recognise your face. Only your harsh tones.
I don’t even recall why I was asked to leave.

I bet you sit at night wondering where I am.
I have been to many far off places across the land.
Places with conversation.
Places without harsh tones.

I bet you’re wondering where I’ll be tomorrow.
I’m wondering that too.
Will I return?
If I can remember the road I just might.

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