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An Ode to A Forgotten Home

Straight through cedar forest,
Past the pot hole paved road,
Onto a gravel road where the old man
and his horse sometimes lay,
Turn right on a road that's no longer.
There's an old dilapidated house.
That once burned to the ground.
Pieces of the past lay all around.
It used to be a family's protection.
It holds the secrets of a family's past.
What used to be a home,
Is now just pieces of a house.

The real beauty lies,
In your imagination of its past.
Picturing how it looked,
And how it gave a family a home.




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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

EPluribusUnumThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Dec. 6, 2012 at 6:21 pm:
This gives me a vivid picture of coming upon an old house in the woods and wondering about it's past. As I said in a comment on another of your pieces, you are extremely skilled at endings. The topic of this poem actually reminds me a little of a poem I wrote a while back. It's called "Fallow" if you want to read it.
 
Shortblueeyes224This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. replied...
Dec. 7, 2012 at 11:45 am :
thank you! and i will
 
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