Goodbye
In the dark corridor of our erstwhile home,
I stood and stared at the door of your room.
It was not locked nor latched,
The sliver of light which always shone
Lay darkened as I opened the door.
In a library old and dusty I had seen a book
Its pages torn and strewn. I could tell there
Was a story once, but which was now missing.
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I stood and saw the shirt which
You had discarded and it lay on the
Floor with all the biscuit wrapers. It was green
And blue. And old, as old as my oldest memory
Of you. And it lay there, thrown.
I turned and closed the door.
Today I have come again
To find memories I have lost.
I open the door. Someone has cleaned
The mess you had left behind.
The chair is stacked atop
That empty steel bed.
The grey floor swept clean,
Like it was the first time you called
That room your own. Your shirt is gone,
Those walls are just that now.
It is all emptiness.
