Apathy

They kept it all shut up like tomb,

Unkempt and disintegrating with apathy.

An aura of sadness floats like a mist

Through the old trees and weedy gardens.

The grand open stone arches welcome no more

With chain link fence and hostile messages.

Once it was a grand plantation home—

Opulent and refined,

With its long gravel driveway

Welcoming carriages and buggies.

Laughter floated through the front columns of the house

And light through the latticed windows.

Women in beautiful gowns drank punch,

And an orchestra played within.

Couples strolled in the moonlight;

Others having a lover’s tryst in the gazebo.

The garden bloomed green and rainbow,

But the color has faded.

It is now old and dreary,

And remembers happiness within its bounds

As wild cats tussle through the tall grass

And delinquents trespass.

Nothing else remains but an old woman

Sitting in the gazebo, seen from time to time—

Possibly remembering the old days

Of splendor and happiness

Before sadness and gloom,

Age and disuse, marred the façade

Of the old walls that have already

Entombed her.