The House I grew up in

I watch everything goes up in flame and there was nothing I could do to shut out the pain the evening and the morning become one and the fire spread out all over the land and I watch the house that I grew up in burn. The house I grew up in once stood firm on the hill and nothing could Could break my will, the windows and the doors were well secured and nothing could penetrate the ceiling or the floor; nice curtains and drapes adorn the window and golden lining covers the bedroom door, the living room had diamond reflecting on the wall and every time I sit in the crystal sofa my energy comes alive and I can feel you sitting by my side. The well-polished antique Italian dining table is still intact in the center of the room, and I can still hear the laughter and joyous chatter at the dinner table where my family used to gather, I could see everyone in their special spot and my grandmother petting her fluffy black and white cat, while the yard dog underneath the table slowly eating my meat and vegetable that I secretly tossed on the floor; it’s just like yesterday the memory never fades away. My baby crib is still in the corner of my room with my siblings infant clothes fold up inside and the fresh smell of the baby lotions perfume the air. My teenage guitar is still hanging on the wall and my dreams to become a rock band star never die. There is love in every room, and the floor with its marble tile reflects your face in the night and bathroom granite wall and modern fixture makes me feel alive when I soaked in the bath tub I usually sit in the bath tub and read a chapter from my book that teaches you how to cook and the soft music in the back ground ignites my passion while I read. Will you stay this night with me and feed upon this beautiful memory? The house I grew up in had a fire place and it is spilling memory all over the place, everyone used to gather around and my mother use to tell us bed time stories of snow-white and the seven dwarfs. I could literally see elves running around the place, and when the night gets cold mom used to tuck me into blanket and hold me in her arms; oh there is something special about that house. On Christmas day this house comes alive, family and friends gather around to celebrate the day, I met my friend at the dinner table on a Sunday afternoon, our eyes briefly met each other and we were stuck forever. An old friend brought him along and from that day we could not stop singing that merry song. Every time I visit the house I can still feel his presence by the fire place. The house I grew up in is blazing, the house I grew up in is burning within, nothing is left of it except for the concrete exterior and burnt wood that lines the window, everything around it is torched and the whole town is on the march, there is ashes and debris all around and residue is spilling on the ground, my heart is aching and my spirit is baking. The house I grew up in is burnt to the ground and the skeleton stood in the air naked and bare, everyone comes and looks at it and tells me to rebuild it. The house I grew up in is no more but its memory lives on in the burnt out town.