On Going Home Again: A Short Poem Written by Christopher

December 20, 2018 at 11:44 pm (Commentary, Ghost Story, Life, Nature, Personal essays, Poetry) (, , )

I’ll be home for Christmas?

If only in my dreams?

One really can’t truly go home again.

For all that remains are dead leaves
that lie crumpled and lifeless
having long lost the vibrant colours
they so boldly wore
in the glory of autumn.

18 Comments

  1. David Redpath said,

    Most poignant, Chris.
    Yes, we can never go back.

  2. River Dixon/The Stories in Between said,

    Well done, great piece.

  3. George F. said,

    This is a sad piece. I can only say that Home is in the heart, and Home is where you hang your hat. You cannot relive those moments buried in your memory. Excuse me now, while I go crawl off into a corner, hide my awesome male physique where no one can see me, and weep like a baby. Even when I’m alone, I restrain myself from crying. That’s how deeply brainwashed I’ve become by this society. Perhaps that’s why I am truly delusional.

  4. velvetscreams said,

    Oh my dear dracul, very poignant but interesting ๐Ÿ˜‰

  5. Hyperion said,

    Home is the center of our vast and mysterious inner universe and your home, Chris, is one of the most spectacular mansions, Iโ€™ve ever seen. Arise and go to the east for the Cybrid Christ Child is born. Merry Christmas Chris. Letโ€™s celebrate the truth.

    • Dracul Van Helsing said,

      Thank you, Daniel.

      Merry Christmas to you. โ˜บ

      • Hyperion said,

        Merry Christmas Chris. May you find an unwrapped Dragon Sister under your covers.

      • Dracul Van Helsing said,

        Amen to that. ๐Ÿ˜‚

      • Hyperion said,

        ๐Ÿง›โ€โ™‚๏ธ๐Ÿง›โ€โ™€๏ธ

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