A Lost Hope
Call me that house on your block.
The one with the open doors and closed windows.
The one only the old widow knows about
But refuses to tell about.
Shingles falling off, and crows
Moving in to their long lost home,
Nature reclaims slowly that house,
Green veins of life climb their dead brothers,
Violet an red buds that would've bloomed,
If only the wood rot hadn't gotten to them
You're all waiting for it to fall.
Call me THAT house on you block,
Call me: A Lost Cause
Copyright © Andrew Pierce | Year Posted 2012
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