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Windham Terrace

Children are a joy; I’ve always
Loved their unabashed smiles,
Enthusiasm for life.
Honest, inquisitive, sprightly,
Destiny never gave me
A child
Nor a wife.
Instead she gave me eyes
And the knowledge; wisdom
Only loneliness can bestow.

I sit here with useless, arthritic legs;
Sit here in this chair, this
Mobile substitute.
The leaves fall, the corridors
Hum with anticipation of visitors.
For others.
The first holiday comes.
Our 'home' will be visited
By a group of small children
Dressed as vampires, princesses,
And the occasional astronaut.

I hold my butterscotch candies anxiously
In my lap, mangled legs covered.
My own costume, a witch mask
With grassy hair
Sunken eyes
And a vicious, gap-toothed leer,
Wasn't my choice
Though, seems a fitting commentary.
I sit in dappled sunlight, crisp air
With the others,
butterflies pummeling my stomach.
The children never come.
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Submitted on May 01, 2011

43 sec read

Lindsay K Beardall Claim this poet

There isn't really much to me. I like to sit and watch and listen to people. I observe more than interact, but don't get me wrong, I love to socialize. I just don't seek to be the center of attention all the time. I love reading, writing, and learning. I am working toward several degrees in Anthropology. Sometimes I love people, sometimes I hate people. I'm terrified of sharks and utterly despise barbecue sauce. What else...I'm very much a Gemini, my Love Language is Quality Time, and according to Myers-Briggs/Jung/Keirsey tests, I'm an INFP or an Idealist/Healer. With that, you'll know everything there is to know about me. Google it, fool.Also, if I didn't write, I'd probably die. more…

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