deepundergroundpoetry.com

Re-Home

 
He turned the key in the lock
He slowly opened the door
To his horror, he saw me
Sitting in a purple chair
He did not recognize
He did not recognize the room
He did not recognize the sofa
He did not recognize the carpet
He did not recognize me
In his mind he panicked
Why did he have a key?
For somebody else’s house
Who was the strange person?
Sitting in the purple chair
Will he hurt me like the others?
He considered going back
To the hospital ward
That filled him with dread
Strangely he never forgets
The meanness and cruelty
He felt that lump in his throat
His eyes started to well up
I slowly moved towards him
Stretched out my arms and
Hugged him as he sobbed
“It’s ok Dad, you’ve come home.”
I showed him some wall photos
Of him and me, they registered
But not as clear as they should
But there was one thing
In his mind that was crystal clear
He wanted to stay
Rather than go back
What could I do?
I sent the old bastard back
His house was mine now
I had no intention
Of giving it back
Written by David_Macleod (14397816)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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