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My wife is encouraging me to post some of the prose and poetry I wrote in the 90’s. This is title, “a Vacant Room” and originally written in 1997. Saddly, my poetry and creative writing took a hit when after starting to be treated for Atention Defficet Disorder. On the Flip side after being treated for ADD I picked up Flash, JavaScript, HTML and got a job as a web developer for Disney Online in which launch the technical career I am in today. 

Please don’t laugh. If you do laugh keep it at a sniker. She is making me posted
In a vacant room of an unnoticed building in the middle of the street
a soul sits and waits for something it has long forgotten
as the soul wonders if he is haunting the room he remembers that he is merly visiting
void of furniture the soul presses against the crevice of two walls converging
as the soul scans the divisions of the room
the east wall
west wall
north wall
south wall
all fitting so nicely together
the spirit sees patterns of east and west, north and south
as the soul sits and waits fpr the door to open
the spirt has long forgotten who or what he is waiting for
the yellow paint is all but faded to the man
the colors have never been more vivid to the child
the man sees the holes where pictures used to hang
the child wonders what pictures he could he use to fill the space
the man sees a carpet that is old and is in need of replacing
the diry carpet goes unnoticed by the child as he wonders what is making the ceiling sparkle
the man’s foresees the building demolition
the man sees all being laid to waste
the child imagines the man that designed
the child imagines the men who built it
while the man images the work needed to patch the holes
the child is thankful that he can easily fit a nail in to hang his favorite pictures.
with a grin the child imagines what the room could be
with a tear the man struggles to forget what it could have been.
A single window in the middle of the room brings in a ray of light let loose by the storm’s cloud
the light shines on the imperfections the darkness was hiding
only the man notices the imperfections for the child knows not what perfection is
while the man gazes out the lone window he sees an alley without much room
the child gazes through the glass and sees a playground full of a multitude of grand adventures
like the two walls converging the direction is obsecured by perception
the man sees a corner
the child see a corner
but the two are not the same
the child pulls the man to his feet
the man picks up the child
it is only a vacant room they both try to convince each other
the child knows the man is lying 
the man knows the child is not buying it