Macchars don’t wear sweaters

My empty room,

my friend of many years,

i am sorry, but i will not miss you,

because no shared laughter rings from your corners,

nor do your wall murmur with comforting voices,

the only vision i see, is my own shadows,

sitting on the wooden chair,

or lying on the bed in reflection,

or cooking my evening meal,

yes, i leave with you a part of me,

but i will not miss you

for some people life is adventure,

glorious conquests awaiting,

higher and higher peaks to be scaled,

but for others life is fragile,

like a rag doll in a storm,

so they gather what little they have,

and hold it close.