Welcome Mat

The gray has come over the top,
drained shadow from the image
and stolen most of its color.
Cracks have formed in the window frames
and spots of some wrong color
are showing through.
Where once WELCOME shone bright
for all who approached, now a dingy,
downtrodden space frowns
where years of kicks and grinding heels
have left their marks.
In the attic, so many pieces of a life
almost lived, but really just collected,
lie forgotten in dusty corners,
lost or unrecognizable beneath
smooth gray sheets.
I live within this shell of what was
once a serviceable and attractive place,
my face. I still watch from these
filthy brown windows, trying as ever
to understand what it is, who you are,
that have always passed on by.
I understand. Shuttered as I am,
as I’ve always been, you
probably thought no one
was ever home.

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