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HOUSE OF PAIN
The structure itself is a shrine to the past with a pain so built in, it forever will last.
The walls that once rang with love, laughter and cheer, now echo with silence drab and drear. 
The table where meals and games were had, now has only two seats, just a mom and a dad. 
The bedrooms are empty, there’s no one there, the toys packed away, even old teddy bear. 
The halls once filled with the excitement of play, now serve just as passage to get through the day.  
The basement that housed an imagination station, has morphed into just a storage location. 
The garage that once housed the tools of fun, is a place where children no longer run. 
The yard that played host to gardens, fires and football, is now barren space where the grass grows tall. 
The driveway once littered with bikes and bright chalk, has been transformed only into ground where the occupants walk. 
Trains, legos and pictures are all put away, as objective reminders of a much brighter day.
 Kids stories and books that were read before bed, are now words on a page that will never be said. 
Those special Holiday times with so much to do, have become merely seasons to just muddle through. 
The house itself stands as a strong memory to what once was and never more shall be.  
Host to a loving family.

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