From when I was young
There was a building behind our dead dystopian backyard
That always caught my interest.
It was an old building
with a faded grey and white surface
closely relating to the shape of a box
three black glassed windows near the top
Stuck out like a sore thumb
Any indication of life living there was
null and void.
But with my young idiocy,
I had always curious of what lied inside
This curiosity developed into an urge.
A continuous urge that wouldn’t stop til’ I
scavenged it’s inners.
It was in the middle of a late night blizzard,
I had snuck out of my warm comfy room
to the backyard where it stood.
Still in pajamas,
I carefully climbed over the fence and towards
the entrance of the old structure
In which I was met with
an old rusty door.
My expectations were ever so slightly demolished
when I opened that door
it was empty.
No stairs.
No rooms.
The only thing present was a frail man,
a green table,
and a bowl of rice.
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