Losing My Sanctuary
A Poem about Losing One’s Home
Taking from a Male’s POV
Everything seemed to be working out.
Everything seemed to be coming together.
Stable until… that day.
Everything was stable.
Until the day that he had lost his job.
Then his girlfriend.
Bills and unopened envelopes splayed across the small wooden circular table.
As much as he attempted to scrounge up the cash to pay for all the bills that piled up.
He had spent nights infuriated at himself for his inability to find a job.
It was to no avail.
He just couldn’t make those ends meet.
It had been months he had been dodging the collectors.
He dodged everyone he could, secluding himself.
But that game could only last so long until he had been found out.
He was forced out of his home, his house foreclosed.
He was sent into a homeless shelter and he spent most of his nights awake.
One night in his now ratted and tattered up clothes after spending countless months in that shelter.
He made the decision to go see his former house once again.
He ventured out into the cool night air, pulling his clothes closer to his body in hopes of warming up.
As he looked into the horizon in the direction of his old home, he saw a pillar of smoke.
Panic washed over him quickly and he rushed, feeling the adrenaline pump through his veins.
When he found the origin of the smoke, he was faced with his worst nightmare.
His former home had been set ablaze.
The glorious rich colors of orange and red ravaged the house, consuming it from the inside out.
His knees fell hard with a thud onto the concrete street and wet tears brimmed his eyes.
That is all he could hear in the background as firetrucks and firemen jumped onto the scene to quench the fire.
His hopes and dreams he had on regaining his home after he got over his financial obstacle, crushed.
In front of his eyes.
If you enjoyed reading this, consider supporting me on Patreon for as little as $1 a month!