#1816-Vacant

Rusted,

Parts broken,

Yet unabashed, unafraid,

And open for the world,

To see what lies inside,

No matter how it looks,

To those walking by.

Pretty objects wither,

Creating clutter,

As years fade away.

Now with time,

I’ve cleaned up the inside.

Emptiness,

And remnants of age,

Are all that remain.

Strange that it feels lighter,

Than it has in many years.