when i get home
late at night i find
that someone else is in my
house.
putting my
kids to bed, kissing my
wife
goodnight.
the dog has been walked.
the doors locked,
the windows pushed
down tight.
i stand and ring the bell
out front,
i look up
to the darkened house
and yell, i bang
on the door with my
fists,
what about me, i say,
this
was my life. this isn't
fair.
this isn't right.
Tuesday, September 5, 2017
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