The House

Your windows are cracked and so are the walls

There are no lights down your dark halls

I step inside, you give your all;

You are my every home.

With window seats and wooden floors

Memories and wooden doors

Creaks and ghosts that I adore

Inside my long lost home.

Not one thing of you is new

Not the paint and not the view

Not your old, old attitude

May I live inside of you?

Will you be my home?

The garden is dry,

The ceilings are high

People have lived and people have died

In your rooms, deep inside

I walk now where they reside,

In this ancient abandoned home..

You feel the spirit of the past

I reach out to feel it too

Energies flow but they don’t last

Invisible through and through,

Filling this empty home.

Don’t be afraid, lean in close

Touch the house, touch its ghost

The future may come and it may go

The past will always be our host.

In this grey and glorious home.

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