He spiritedly ransacked his life,
Throwing memories willy-nilly over his shoulder,
Searching for the happiness he was sure he’d left somewhere.
“Someone will have to pick that up,” he said distractedly
To the detritus of his life strewn about the floor.
Aware that the responsibility was his alone,
He still issued this subtle plea for help
To the no ones in the room.
Dismayed that the elusive goal remained undiscovered,
He turned a weary, wary eye to an unopened closet in his soul.
The fears and mistakes locked within scratched at the door,
Mewling softly for release to lay siege once more
To his battered and bereft heart.
A hesitant hand reached for the door knob
As he knew in that life-scarred heart
That happiness was hiding amidst those fears.
And those fears must be cast aside,
One by one,
To find it.
The Wilds of Ohio 