Home is so Sad

Home is so sad. It stays as it was left, / Shaped to the comfort of the last to go / As if to win them back. Instead, bereft / Of anyone to please, it withers so, / Having no heart to put aside the theft // And turn again to what it started as, / A joyous shot at how things ought to be, / Long fallen wide. You can see how it was: / Look at the pictures and the cutlery. / The music in the piano stool. That vase.