The Forlorn Poet

Welcome, friend. Come on in.

The fire is warm, there is food on the table, and I have plenty of blankets.

Of course I don’t mind the company.

That’s why the door was open.

You can ignore the odd objects in the corner.

And I realize my decor is somewhat sparse.

But I live alone. And I have little time for decorating.

There are better adventures to be had elsewhere.

I don’t have much, but I am happy to share it.

That’s why the door was open.

I won’t tell you I spent 23 years in prison.

You won’t learn of the day I burned my parents house down.

And I’ll be careful not to say anything about that poor Tanner fellow.

But you are always welcome to dig deeper.

If you think you’re ready for that.

After all…the door is open.