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Goodbye Letter to a Home in Disarray
April 16, 2019
Once warm and bright and ever-so alive,
Though ev’ry day the lights grow dimmer yet.
But we remember when they shone out bright,
And lit a place nostalgia won’t forget.
As cold and darkness drift into their place
The memories accumulated flood.
From youth to rage to joy to tired old age.
But most of all the warm and softest love.
It saddens me to think of moving on,
But hope is what I see in Youth’s bright face.
The lights stay on still after I have gone.
And maybe soon the bulbs will be replaced.
New generations grow as mine once grew.
And you’ll be good to them and them to you.
© Sean C., Princeton, IL
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Literally, the sonnet is about my high school theatre. The lights growing dimmer is symbolic, but also literal because lights keep burning out and they are never replaced. My freshman year, all the lights were working, but now, as I am about to leave, I think there are exactly four working lights in the house.
Also both literal and symbolic is the reference to flooding. Our orchestra pit floods annually.
So in conclusion, the place really is in disarray, but it's given a lot to us and us to it these past four years, so it's hard to part with. Of course, I'm sure underclassmen will step up and fill in the leadership roles in the program, essentially replacing us... and maybe one day they'll even replace the lightbulbs, too.