Finally, moving out, and whatever it was that had been, holding you back, is no longer, effective, as you cross the threshold into your, forties…translated…
I'm Leaving Home
Taking the Books & the Bed
Leaving Dad to the Fridge
Leaving the Broken Hearts to These, Hallways
Firing the Maids, and the Butlers
I'm Going to a House Where there's No Home
With the Washer, and the Formula for Independence
Freedom Awaits
Loneliness is Also, There Too
Looking at the Various Properties, Washing My Feet, Packing My Belongings
Looking at this, Wooden Floor with the Cigarette Butts, the Comforts of These Days
With a Huge Row of Stockings of the Cold, Harsh, Winter
There's the Fish
The Meats
Also the Soup as Well
You Had a Haircut
Pops is Truly Too Cute
Your Pants & Slippers Aren't in My Luggage
I'm Going to a Place, Farther Than Bath, England
I Will Fall Asleep Due to the Fatigue from Working
Dreaming of You, Every Single My
My Dear, Father
So, this is you, finally, separating, from everything you used to know, striking out on your own, at the age of, forty, and, for whatever reasons there may have been that you couldn't leave, you'd found the means in yourself, to strike out on your own, at the tender age of, forty!
About time you grew up too…
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