This Broken House


There's a house down on the corner; very quaint and very small.
On the door there hangs a tulip wreath, although it is now fall.
The shutters hang from rusted nails, the picket fence is rotten
The windows are collecting dust; as though it's been forgotten.
On the inside there are pictures placed in broken porcelain frames
Next to the stairs there stands a chart with measurements and names.
The furniture is growing mold, the wallpaper is peeling
There hangs a golden chandelier that's tearing down the ceiling.
The bannister is leaning and the fireplace has caved
Inside the hallway closet there's a box that had been saved.
The only thing inside it was a single folded letter
That read "please watch the house for me, until I can get better."

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