"Gone are the days"

Rusha Chatterjee

Gone are the days

when my house felt like home,

now the rooms filled with thousand

memories feels like a cage,

suffocating and cold,

laughs from my childhood

echoes throughout the space

maybe to light a little

spark of hopeless hope.

The mint colour walls

are now pale and grim,

the lack of warmth is

surely from within,

the rose wood furniture

was a beauty to behold,

now with layers of dust

is an absolute eyesore.

The kitchen which

always smelled like heaven,

now occasionally whiffs of burnt

prepackaged Ramen,

the porch with the view of

blooming flowers and neatly cut grass,

is now laced with outgrown weeds

so distasteful even the trespassers

ignore a glance.

There was a time

I always prayed

to be alone, to be free,

now why the

empty house

seems like a nightmare

one would never wish to see?