Wrecking Ball

Shards of broken memories
scatter the ground like rubble
as the wrecking ball swipes
against the old church building.

I should not have come,
but was drawn to the devastation
like a moth to a flame.
I stand here watching and wondering
if I’ll be strong enough to overcome this pain?

The ball slams again leaving a gaping
hole in the shell of my childhood

I turn and stumble away before the
bulldozer comes to scrape up these
childish dreams and dump them like yesterday’s trash.


My childhood home, 565 Mildred Ave, before the fire that destroyed it.

About sandrabranum

I'm a philosopher, dreamer, poet, writer -- not necessarily in that order -- and I get to write it all down and share it with the world thanks to the Wonderful World Wide Web!
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2 Responses to Wrecking Ball

  1. Barbara Gambill says:

    Did they tear it down? I haven’t been over that way in awhile. Once this weather breaks I will try to get over there. We had so much fun there.

    Barb G

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