Atrophy in orange and blue

Home is a time we can never regain

When everything was new and built for us

When the world was ours, at least
we thought it was

 
Time is faces seen among a crowd

Colours of forgotten childhood toys

The smell of washing days, the echo
of a neighbour’s voice

 
Life is finding things and losing them

The years remembering the things we lost

Love is what remains, when all around
has turned to dust