My Home
What once stood tall and proud is a shadow of itself
Weather worn and tired and exhausted from Ill health
The strongest of foundations get weaker day by day
The once vibrant exterior is starting to turn grey
As the bricks they start to crumble, the walls they start to fall
A vulnerable interior is there to see for all
I can not rebuild it and nor can any man
We sit and wait and wonder how long until it’s gone
Walls once filled with memories come crashing to the floor
A place you once felt safe disappears it is no more.
But the house I speak of here, it’s isn’t brick or stone
The house I speak of here it is my dad and what I call home
What once stood tall and proud is a shadow of itself
Weather worn and tired and exhausted from Ill health
Copyright © Simon Whelan | Year Posted 2023
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