Is anyone as interested as I am, as to the history of old tumble-down and deserted houses, long-ago boarded up and left to deteriorate, that we see only through the eyes of the stranger, the passer-by? Do you ever think about the people who once lived there? Or, who built them? Young newlyweds perhaps, as a dream house, perfect for raising children. Or, as a “place of their own” for a couple tired of paying rent, pursuing a dream of their own. And what happened? Where did everybody go, and why? Why, and when did it cease to exist as a home, or for that matter a house and then be reduced to the bare-boned skeleton that we see today? Did the dream die, or did the burden of life just become too much to bear? How much happiness enjoyed, or sadness endured? Tragedy, circumstance, apathy? And, have their ghosts left yet?… I was just wondering!!
Mondays are the penance for the weekends,
When Houses Cry
Abandoned and derelict houses,
remnants of happier times,
decaying, both outside and in,
and of the dreams that they held,
there’s no sign.
No glass remains in the windows,
chimneys, no longer tall,
and the rafters, with the years,
are supported, by wearisome walls.
The paint, once bright and inviting,
is now bled of its color, and dry.
For that is the way, that old houses,
shed, the tears that they cry.
Yes, houses like people, can perish,
when inside, the hearth fades to cold,
and when the dream has lost,
all its meaning,
and there’s nothing left of its soul.
Copyright© Jack Downing, aka Jake @poemsandponderings.wordpress.com. All rights reserved. Contents may not be reprinted or disseminated in any manner without the expressed written consent of the author. JRD.3/5/12