Vacant

A vacant room, inviting as ever

The curtains are shut

Refusing any light that dares enter

A single flower held in a glass vase

Wilting with deprivation

A visitor enters

Opening the curtains

Giving the flower water and sunlight

The room flourishes

No longer vacant

No longer deprived

But over time

The visitor shuts the curtains

and the flower begins to wilt

More time passes

He boards up the windows

And lets the flower die

Eventually, the visitor leaves

The windows remained boarded

The flower dead

And a staleness hangs in the air

There is a vacant room, uninviting as ever

-from my website, bychloejean.com