Moving on

Divested of my children,

I have an empty nest.

There is space within my home

but constriction in my chest.

 

There is quiet all around me,

my home is clean and neat.

Everything’s done that needs to be,

yet things feel incomplete.

 

I have an ocean of time for me,

I can use it, or waste it, at will.

It was something I had looked forward to,

but it’s now just a void I can’t fill.

 

I was pleased that they had moved on,

I planned what I would do,

told myself it was right for each of us,

but I know that isn’t true.

 

I’ve suspected this was coming,

and now I truly know.

It was hard when my children were here,

but it’s hell now I’ve let them go.

 

 

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