I've been away for so long
that
home has become a memory.

A figment of my imagination.

The colours, the sounds
the smell
they're all lost now
and have been overtaken
by harsh reality.

My new place is void of colour
white walls staring back at me
begging for a touch of life.

The sounds of people
making their daily rounds
to care for me
is now the norm.

And the smell
try as they might to mask it
the smell of chemicals
pervade the air;
a subtle reminder
that life has robbed me.

Or has it?

The birds come to my window at times
singing melodies
filled to burst with life.

The flowers are in bloom
and the trees spreading out
after losing their leaves.

Life hits nature
and it always recovers
so will I.

So, I choose joy
I choose to stand firm
in the face of life's onslaught.

I choose to celebrate
the little insignificant things
in my life
and if my fire
will burn out today
may it light paths
on my way to forever.

© Viktoria

I love that part of "I choose to stand..." What we see in life are product of choice. Good one.

Kindoo:
I love that part of "I choose to stand..."
What we see in life are product of choice.
Good one.

Thank you.

I'm glad you liked the poem