Road to nowhere
One wrong turn down Shabby Street
where driveways crumble on lots condemned.
Front doors boarded. No one’s home.
That car left long ago.
Ten years of stuff packed then hauled.
Toys tossed in dumpsters in the back.
Families shattered like broken glass.
Along the hall, in empty rooms,
dust settles between the cracks of warped floorboards.
Hope faded with pictures purged from the drawers.
Only wind stirs inside these walls,
A cold intruder who found his way
through cracked windows that feel no pain,
echos the whispers of forgotten names