` <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Dour faced <br />you stepped into a gaping precipice <br />leaving me with <br />my face moist <br /> <br />at the threshold <br />(its frame now leaning <br />to one side <br />splintered and unhinged.) <br /> <br />Did I tell you that my front door <br />never opened to the street? <br />Maybe I never had the need to; <br />you always entered through the back door, <br /> <br />you always crept out the window <br />to play in the sun. <br />This time was different: <br /> <br />Before another word could be spoken <br />you rushed past me <br />brushing my outstretched arm(s) . <br />Then all I could see <br /> <br />was your hair tumbling in the air <br />as your limbs flailed <br />while you plummeted out of my life. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />`<br /><br />Frederick Kesner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wound-of-a-forced-exit/
