Abandoned Roost

Creating a nest,

a little home to call one’s own.

A place decorated

and built up with

golden coins,

silver memories,

wooden promises

and glass eyes.


Inside the home

is the apex of relaxation.

Inside the home

a thousand truths wait

to sing their hearts out to you.

Inside the home

all is safe and warm.

Or so I thought.


People love my architecture.

People think my décor is top notch.

People want to see my home.

They want to be my home.

They want to live my home.

So I open the door

and allow visitors

to go though.


Some traipse through the halls,

while others blunder through

the cluttered rooms and open closets.


But every one in a while,

a visitor wants more than to visit,

they want to borrow

Real eyes hidden behind glass.

they want to write a good story,

they want to report on my goods

they want to steal.


I opened my house,

I was generous,

so they assumed

that my house was

a public place

like a museum

where all were free

to visit,


and gander.


They took away

my ability to greet people

at the door.

They took away

my ability to screen people

and check to make sure they mean me no ill harm.

They made my house

into a glass house.


“A man’s home is his castle”


A castle cannot be made of glass.

The sun will refract through the glass and burn

the whole interior.


If all can see,

where is there to hide?

If all can see,

what point is there

in living here anymore?

There is nowhere left

to feel safe and free from prying eyes.


This is no longer a safe house,

it will from now on be

an abandoned roost.

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