I am from two stories
and winding green vines.
From ancient gray brick
and roofing gone with time,
Beautiful and quiet.
I am from wooden floors
and quilted beds.
From old creaking doors
and dusty window sills,
Peaceful and familiar.
I am from rusted knobs
and squeaking floor boards.
From empty closets
and closed doors,
Solitary and confined.
From broken porches
and peeling paint,
from old barns
a faded past.
I am from home, where family is happy.
and winding green vines.
From ancient gray brick
and roofing gone with time,
Beautiful and quiet.
I am from wooden floors
and quilted beds.
From old creaking doors
and dusty window sills,
Peaceful and familiar.
I am from rusted knobs
and squeaking floor boards.
From empty closets
and closed doors,
Solitary and confined.
From broken porches
and peeling paint,
from old barns
a faded past.
I am from home, where family is happy.

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