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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required These walls are broken, termites eaten, the bricks crumbling clay, the remains of dust. was this ever a house, ? Their first fire extinct, it was never real, The early smiles were deception A makeup never truly made from the heart, The haste of amity, the oath of the court. Soon to end at the court She will never let it grow, Her stout, domineering rebellion The canker-worm of their joys. Unwilling, unyielding The burden Friends turned foes, filial bond interrupted The external bond beckons and her mind now yielding to ousters Calling her back to her long spinster days As she watched friends build; left to tell their stories as a busybody Add her interest in politics and never the trick of a happy home She will never build hers, Envying the world Seeking approval from strangers Comparing her journey to mammoth public ovations Begging bystanders for pity Armed to dominate, it must be her way Unwilling to learn, whining like a toddler Anger her weapon, to manipulate to consent of unsavoury standards Animosity her sword, a trade well learned and days of embittered recklessness Presumptuous, bent on her own ways, ignoring the holy law Stouthearted. With a hymnbook, with bitter anger seeking mercy Her public show, commended by deceived comrade. As they fight for her in ignorance of her real person at home A mask of deceit, The house is boiling Because she takes no instruction and will learn How wise women make their home This house is crumbling Beyond all redemption She was in Court yesterday To seek divorce, that is her house of wisdom. Because she could not sustain the home in humility Perhaps a pattern of divorce A kindred spirit resuscitated, Learn from me, Never crown immaturity, Especially the hard to teach. Or honor her for a mother She may never know, The secret of all mothers And may never learn the pattern of sustained home This house is broken It did not grow to become a home With the Bible in the rain This house may never be built
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