The house knows more than the neighbors do,
So they watch it moan and groan.
Only from the sky would it appear to be a nice place.
But anyone who gets closer knows the opposite is true.
It used to hold such beauty, it used to shine with hope.
But the years of loneliness has made it ever so gloomy.
No one is thought to live there, yet she can still be heard.
Her voice is beautiful, but her cries overwhelm.She does not cry for a lover, like many seem to think.
She cries for the complexity that has become her simple world.
Always in the sun and always in the moon, she is there.
But it is in the fog and rain that the house is full of still air.
wow. I love this. It makes me want to cry and moan for what has been lost in complexity... all that used to be so simple. I can almost see the ghostly fingers lingering gently on pieces of the house.
ReplyDeleteThanks Beth! I'm glad you were able to read and connect with this too. As always, I love your feedback!
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