A dilapidated and forgotten house can hold so many memories which are not always good ones.
Image via Wikipedia
*
The old house stood empty high up on the hill,
Overhung by an ancient oak tree so still.
Its roof agape, tiles hung by a thread,
Where once lay a child asleep in his bed.
*
The rooms, empty and cold, hold memories so clear
Of a family whose happiness became lost in fear.
The doors off their hinges, the windows unglazed,
The chimney breast broken where a fire had once blazed.
*
The kitchen wall stained from anger untold
When meals flew ‘cross the room as a row did unfold.
The echo of screams and in the corner a child
Crouching in terror, hearing language reviled.
*
Now the mice chatter as they speed ‘cross the floor
And spiders build webs where once stood a door,
And all that remains in this house now so bare
Are the memories it holds of the folks who lived there.
*
Christine Ramsay 6.5.11
another one of your better shares 
Frank
what a sad memory in that abandoned house 
nice poem
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