This Old House

All alone I sit, this house is no longer a home, oh my how the years have flown.
I've seen the laughter and the tears, the joys and the fears.
The sorrow and the pain, I have watched them come and go like the seasons, in and out of these doors they flow.
Like the rain, echoing through these halls.
There is no sounds now, simple silence is my mouth.
For I cannot speak throughout this house.
If these walls could talk, oh the things we could tell you, of the peoples lives, and the centuries that have slid by.
From births to school graduations, weddings and anniversaries, of death and life renewal.
The fullness we have shared, with many throughout the years, but I here I sit, all alone, waiting for someone to come along, and make me their home.

poem by ~Hotkoko
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[link] - Gumbo-Alokoi
[link] - shudder-stock
[link] - DisturbedKittenStock
[link] - dholms