The empty house

I was not always as you see me now, decaying  old ready to take a final bow.

I was beautiful tall and strong , a stable bet to set your life upon.

It is cold at night and the wind finds my every crack

I tremble and shudder now as the tubes roll by on the nearby  track.

I brace myself against the traffic’s thunder,

Each day that passes the fact I still stand here  is a wonder.

I used to hear the children sing ,

The chime of doorbells as they’d ring.

Families living in me weaving their life

As I stood there for them strong in their joys and strife.

I have seen babies born and babies die,

Mothers grieving, husbands turning a blind eye.

Birthdays, marriages, divorces all old hat, kindly couples happy in each others care

Evil bastards who knock their women flat out on the stair,

Or shout them down until they loose all hope

Weighted down with worries and too many children to cope.

The birds are now happy in my rafters

Their cooing fills my rooms instead of laughter ,

It is still a happy sound not unlike the sounds

Of children playing here there  and  all around.

At night lovers climb through my open doors

They make love upon my dust floors

For them I am their only meeting place ,

For what ever reason they may have to hide their face.

Drinkers also drug addicts too

They hide within my walls to do what they must do.

I am decaying crumbling away

I do not want to go yet I want to stay.

Try me out I could be the best deal for you

If you build me up I shall protect you true.

I could be the canvas to build your life upon.

I could be rebuilt, decorated and glazed I could dance again to children’s song.

13 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. bearspawprint
    Feb 26, 2013 @ 23:45:20

    Reblogged this on bearspawprint.

    Reply

  2. penpusherpen
    Feb 27, 2013 @ 15:56:24

    I do hope someone answers the House and it’s heartfelt pleas, Willow, and brings it back to life … So may times I’ve thought ‘if only these buildings could talk’ … especially the one’s dating back for hundreds of years… what stories they could tell, of times gone, of people and their doings, of lovers, desperation, sweet times and dark days… all lost to time.., Wonderful, enjoyable read my friend. xPenx

    Reply

    • willowdot21
      Feb 27, 2013 @ 16:42:43

      Thank you Pen, I too am intrigued at what these buildings must of witnessed inside and out. I always feel sad when I see a building left to go to wrack and ruin. I seemed to hear a voice pleading for another chance.

      Reply

  3. zendictive
    Feb 27, 2013 @ 16:17:28

    if a house could talk it would wish to be a home (~_~)

    Reply

  4. bluepearlgirl's world
    Mar 10, 2013 @ 18:14:19

    It just baffles me how a home so beautiful could be let go that far. It really truly is a sad thing. Especially after seeing the terribly constructed structures that they make these days. They just dont make them like they used to!

    Reply

  5. socialbridge
    Sep 21, 2014 @ 16:19:50

    Absolutely wonderful, Willow.

    Reply

  6. Trackback: The Chateau’s Lament. | willowdot21

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