J.P. Fletcher

The bats are free of the belfry;

The crushing weight is gone now,

Only the emptiness remains.

The roads we cannot avoid

Become the ones we walk alone.

Each step takes you farther and farther from your home,

Then one day

 You no longer recognizethe face in the mirror.

Each year cuts off another slice,

You don’t see them go

You feel their absence when they’re gone,

Coldness grows within becoming the