Vacated

resurrected from the ash heap

No one is home,. . .in so many ways

Seems we've all lost track, of what's right these days.

Ego and greed, have become entwined,

Knowledge and intelligence have been undermined.

The house has been vacant, since just last week.

The silence of it haunts you, to your soul it speaks.

His body and mind, were in it together,

The box with his ashes, was light as a feather.

The sun was so bright, today by the church

You saw shadows of white pigeons, Up on their perch.

He vacated the premises, silent and quick.

He couldn't stand the silence, couldn't stand being sick.

Off in his car, with only his keys.

Should've known something was wrong, you believe.

All around us, is loneliness and fear

most of us, run from It, when its near.

We don't want to be bothered, only to be heard.

He hung from a tree, when a friend He deserved.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

A haunting piece. Incredibly sad and worse still knowing this happens all the time. The signs are missed and it’s not until it’s too late that those left behind realize that. Reaching out is so important. No man is an island. Great poetry Danny though it hurts the heart.

Chris

[Jimmy Crapped Corn]

Thank you Chris I wrote this a Ling time ago and just reworked it a bit

[Chris Shaw]

Well worth resurrecting.

[redd Brick Keshner]

And what a fine resurrection indeed, and doubly so! 🕊️🙏🏻

[Jimmy Crapped Corn]

From the ashes indeed

[redd Brick Keshner]

Yasssh! And pretty soon from the Cloud 🙏🏻🕊️

[Jimmy Crapped Corn]

What do you mean

[redd Brick Keshner]

From a cloud, the cloud, often returns what has been stashed away as if buried out of sight. And yet it.they resurrect given the conditions. Something like that.

[Belle]

This made me sit with a quiet kind of grief --the kind that doesn’t shout but lingers. I felt the weight of a life slipping away unnoticed, the haunting silence of a house left behind, and the piercing regret of realizing the signs were there all along. The poem captures how we often retreat into our own noise, missing the cries for help that come in subtle ways. I saw myself in the lines about wanting to be heard but not bothered. It reminded me that connection takes effort, and sometimes, that effort could be what saves a life. The final image was devastating --and deeply human.

[Jimmy Crapped Corn]

thank you for this very emotional review. this was a very difficult poem to write, but as with most of my writing, the reviews, YOURS, this one are better than the poetry. I have tears running down my face reading this

[emmajoygreen]

There is such a silence of words here. There they lie, truth at heart yet.. no warmth or smiles signposted.
How tragic the way life defeats the under indulged person who has little or no need for future paths then offs away to a step from our planet - tragedy before the curtains even open. Sad as sad but somehow gently laid - perhaps to be considered. Feel free to exchange if ever needed

[Jimmy Crapped Corn]

I was in a very dark place when i wrote this. Im not sure which I was, narrator or vacated. thank you so much for reading it and commenting

[Ms claws]

Yes, I think I've read this before. It disturbs me how someone with the ability to make me see past the moon, the planets, stars, even other universes can write so eloquenyly about death.

I like to dabble at both ends as well sometimes.
Good writing as always, Dan.

[Jimmy Crapped Corn]

thank you so m uch, death sits right on the other side of the door, waiting patiently, Ive always addressed it directly, flirted with it, and at times welcomed it

[Ms claws]

@D. Mansfield As someone who has watched...Death does not come so easily. "Rage against the dying of the light" has it's foundation.