A two year delay
A coming of age
The evidence
Upon this page
A shock of sorts
But one of fact
Opened the case
My feelings were packed
I now can see clear
To confusion beyond
This familiar me
Of whom I’m quite fond
Now I’ve returned
To my rented soul
To see the filth
Which now fills the hole
This humble abode
Never the same
Whose is the portrait
Within the frame?
If I must be alone
Then alone I will be
Back to the time
When it was just me.