Cabin Fever

Tragic

6-19-03

Are you happy in your box,
your home without a home?
It is your secret.
Everyone inside it sees tragedy.
It's your makeover six times passed.
Erect an iron post to tie it down.
Spray it with a fresh coat of Rustoleum
every spring
to fend off your age.
Park yourself behind the lines
along the beltway,
away from pedestrian walkways.
You're the window that never gets shopped
and the view has never changed.
You don't hear the children calling,
whistling or squawking;
like a rock sitting unapologetically
inside your life.
You left the circus but it never left you.
The clowns have forgotten
because you're making peace with all you ever wanted.
Tired of being just a friend to everyone
for no good reason besides random pity
felt toward you,
you'll try to make a difference
to no one in particular.
That no one will be you.
Hopefully, my friend.