The Cottage

It was definitely winter time as I trotted thru a foot of  snow
My eyes were locked onto the sky, my self-esteem was low
& yet I made it thru the field, where daffodils once swayed
The Cottage laid 100 yards before me in mid-day
It's shutters had all fallen off, & only one remained
It's door was busted, rusted--all swallowed in  decay
& yet I forced my entrance & stood  in disarray 
(The fact of the matter is, I liked it better this way...)
The arms of the rocking chair were worn down to the bone
The pots & pans & tupperware were splashed around the home
At least a home it used to be but that was long ago.... 
It seems it's one-time owner was knocked far from his thrown
The windows were all busted out by rocks that laid the ground
The frost had overtook the place by more than heaps & bounds
It was obvious there'd been no visitors for more than many years
The less than freezing temperatures had made this crystal clear
& as I stood there shivering, thinking of the day
When this sight that laid before me was filled with sun & play
The Cottage was so perfectly constructed in this way
Children had once filled the field where daffodils once swayed
& now I had returned to complete my mission from the start
The plan, unfolding perfectly--The destruction of my heart.