scribblettes 5.0

I can see blue houses

With white window boxes

And it arouses

Inside paradoxes

I want a life

I want a home;

To be a wife

And yet to roam

And yet to give

But still to take

My life to live

No home to break

  

The third stage of grieving

Is making piles

Putting memories

Into folding files

One of pictures

I want never to see

One of letters

You sent to me

I built a little wall around me

To keep out all my enemies

But I forgot that building blocks

Come tumbling down so easily

I went up to Paradise

The weather’s nice but

I don’t think I’ll stay the night

The grass is greener without the ice