Open house Sunday
No one comes
He rests in the great room
Waiting for the doorbell
Waiting for his life to start over
Thinking he needs just one close
To pay most of his bills
Salvage what's left of his credit
He uses the bathroom
Spies in the medicine cabinet
Eats some leftovers from the refrigerator
A lonely dried piece of chicken
Looks in bedside drawers
Wonders why this house, this life
Was denied him
Perhaps if he bought the property
He could have its emotional riches
Its beautiful wife
All its elusive promises
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