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A house and it's sadness
it starts with your room the happiest of all.
it rests when you rest and loves you careingly
Your door is sad. Your in it only a second But you never stay.
The hallway is a little happier, because it knows you will come back.
The stairs lift its carpeted hands cautiously so you can walk down carefully.
The living room furniture is patient and loving, each piece waiting for its chance to cradle you in its tender embrace.
when you walk through the kitchen, it's gleaming silver eyes stare at you grumpily.
you walk through as fast as you can without being rude, but when your back is turned, the eyes glacé at you fondly.
the front door... I don't know. It seems detached from the house, almost distant. It has watched so many generations of families leave, it has to shut down its emotions.
Its the last thing you see when you leave. It's eyes watch you leave, ever hopefully you'll turn around. It also knows to beware of the black, because it knows those clothes mark the coming of the " for sale " sign. it can no longer count the long black boxes or the people that never look back, but it keeps the welcome mat there, ever hoping.
Never loved as much as it needs.