Where the weeds have overgrown.

From my boyhood years, I still recall

joyously running through the old back door.

But my joyous shouts, shout no more...

As my sister's sleep in a graveyard floor.

In this old home, where once we lived

the weeds have overgrown.

The swingset's now a rusted thing;

the see-saw sits alone.

Our youth, now seems, like a made-up dream.

Old picture frames display we three

with mom and dad near the backyard tree.

Yet sadly, all that's left

is me.

Author's Note

A man goes back to his abandoned childhood home.

Reviews

[_missy_]

This poem somewhat reminds me of "Ghost House" by Robert Frost because it has a similarly bittersweet tone that is so captivating. Overall, I admire the truth that seeps into the words; it is truly noteworthy.

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I appreciate your comment, missy, thank you. :) I'll have to give Ghost House a read.

[Chris Shaw]

Such a poignant pen Tim. Really touches the heartstrings. Those old photos and memories of our youth can certainly take us on a nostalgia trip. Tomorrow it will be seven years since my younger brother died. Your poem brought him back to me and I thank you for that, plus reflecting on the time I had with my wonderful parents.

Chris

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I'm glad you liked it, Chris, thanks for reading. :)

[SheIsMe]

I understand this on a personal level. Kinda ripped me apart reading it. I love the imagery in this. Well done.

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Thanks for your thoughts, S.

[Jinx Bane]

An interesting and meaningful piece, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this poem. I hope you keep writing things in the same tone and mood.

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Thanks, Jinx.

[Amber L]

Very cool (: Mystical. Liked it.

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I thank you.

[NotUsinganymore]

Very mournful poem, I enjoyed it.

[Lea Sheryn]

Sad. This poem grips at the soul. Well done.

[Lydia Shutter]

Talk about being able to relate! I, too, am the one left standing and it is sad to look at the old photos and remember. Still, those photos are precious to me as are the memories. We are their legacy. We are the ones who will speak of them and remember. A melancholy reflective write....filled with honest emotion. Lydi**

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Thank you for reading.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

in 4th line did you mean "hear"?
I read it as that.
i relate to his piece...as is true for me. Both gone now, and only me left to carry on.
I think of all those old abodes...the apartment in NY, the house on McKinley in Lockport...
and others...we all lived there once...Life is so different now without them in it.
j.

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Yes, thanks for pointing that out and thanks for the review.

[Jimmy Yetts]

Profoundly sad.
It is a heavy burden to live long enough to see our cherished loved ones become mere memories.
Work with definite impact, C!

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Thanks Jimmy.