Home's Where the Heart Is - Revision

Misty lived on the tracks on the other side; What was perhaps a nice home in thirty-nine. Now a decaying shell of mortar and wood, On the gray banks of a foul, polluted creek. Windows now boarded, with a loose, hanging door; Inside was dark, bleak, an austere barren shell. Electric been shut off for many a year; Only its doleful ghosts to shed their sad tears. She lived with her father, a homeless old bum; They lived off the welfare and a few begged crumbs. At night she'd come home from her studies at school, No one the wiser, Misty had them all fooled. Only just nine, the acumen of a teen, Her studies she'd do in the light of the lamp. Her father a shadow of a once proud man: Old and now lame with but one reason to live. This sad man, out begging on the streets til' dark, He'd stay, until all the people had gone home. The Mission people came that terrible night; Whisked Misty to the Orphanage - not a word! Misty never knew her father's sacrifice; She never knew, how close they'd been to her door. She's now thirteen and her new life is on course; Though she yearns for her boarded home on the creek.