Hour 19 – Old Phrase, New Way

Welcome Back Home


‘Welcome Back Home’ exclaims the sign that hangs above the door.
The house sits darkly mocking me, as I stand in the street.
Twelve years at least since I was here; it feels like it’s been more;
I feel the old familiar rage begin to build, so sweet.

The house sits blindly brooding here, amid the cracked concrete.
“Of course, there can be no sign here,” I tell myself once more,
“There’s no one left here anyway, for this foul meet and greet.”
‘Welcome Back Home’ exclaims the sign that hangs above the door.

The doctors warned me not to come, I guess they knew the score.
I try to move, but just stand here – I’m frozen on my feet.
I hear incessant laughter now, and know I must explore;
The house sits darkly mocking me, as I stand in the street.

I tread the path most forcefully; there will be no retreat!
My fingers tremble shakily as I reach for the door.
It opens wide as if to say “Come get a bite to eat!”
Twelve years at least since I was here; it feels like it’s been more.

Stepping through the portal, I am rocked right to my core;
The door slams shut behind me and I feel desirous heat.
Now from the walls the voices start, and hate begins to pour.
I feel the old familiar rage begin to build, so sweet.

As memories of death return, I start to feel complete.
I’ve spent twelve years forgetting, now it’s time to recall more.
The memories of blood and pain bring a smile of conceit
I know now why it waited, and it need wait no more.

‘Welcome Back Home’


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