Dwelling

The plywood panes are testament
to how her final days were spent
withdrawn from all but her best friend
the spiteful spirit discontent;

but truthfully, did we extend
accepting arms, or did we send
the promise of discouragement
from rigid limbs too scarred to bend?

Each day the dwelling cries – REPENT!
and fuels this lachrymose lament
I fear will haunt me till the end—
the plywood panes are testament.