Empty Closets

Discovering inner peace continues to elude the best of intentions.

Empty Closets
       by Odin Roark

How empty the content
Delusion's walk-in closet
Hideaway's glory
Filled to burst

Collected identities
Acquired by proxy
Guarded by duplicity's two-edge sword
Honed by loneliness

Obsessive darkness
Filled with fantasized self-esteem
Like titanium power clubs
Cradled in his and her golf bags
Overcrowding the weekend corner

Opposite nook
Knee-high leather boots and riding crop
Squeezed against stolen lawn jockey statue
Draped with fading award sashes and ribbons

A brittle rose wreath
Once drenched in winner's circle sweat
Now but an ever-withering benchmark
A once decorative memento
For glory's insatiable ego

Such becomes
Yesterday's self-worth
Today's self-loathing
Some day's garage sale
Junk heaps growing

Behind garish symbols of self-deception
Stacked boxes of innocence gathering dust
Memorabilia of childhood
Forgotten memories of broken in mitt
Paper dolls and Eloise dreams
Varsity jacket and autographed pigskin
All honesty's once joyful rewards
Stashed away
Remaining aware
And wondering

In the closet's darkest corner
A stalwart broom stands at the ready
Its gallant sweep-it-away tradition
Remains anxiety's go-to warrior
Merely biding its time
Awaiting the door to open
And...