The Vanishing Home
Alas to the child who suffer at home
A place made without windows, made without stone
Where clay and mud soak the feet, slowing them down
A home that was not given from above
Cry for the teen who suffer alone
In an abode of shattered glass, shaped as s dome
Where echoes vibrate, no escape to be found
A house of walls being mashed by he sea
Weep for the adult who suffer in the cold
A dwelling without foundation, no walls or sound
Of place of smashed grapes soaking into the ground
Where wind and cold are all that be found
The greatest sorrow to those who suffer in the sea
With residences gone with the passage of time
Trampled by elephants, forever forgotten and done
Homes vanishing deep into the sun, always left being unsung
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