Gutted Rooms - Poem by Sonny Rainshine
The room stood exposed
in the afternoon sun,
all that was left of its furnishings
were imprints on the floor
and against the peeling wallpaper—
shadows with no source.
Gutted like a fish, the space
no longer breathed,
but lay disemboweled
and naked in the light.
Was it a mistake
to come back here,
a grown man in a little boy’s room,
gutted like a fish?
Is there anything sadder
than an empty room
saturated with remembrance,
inundated with recollections?
People, like abandoned houses,
can also feel empty
Our childhoods don’t lie frozen
in gutted rooms, but are housed
securely in our hearts and minds.
Closing the door with resolution,
I knew I would never go back there again.
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