After the tenant has left the house,
it has turned into a waste land,
having torn toy pieces, and a doll’s broken hand,
cluttered with worn out things and particles of sand;
at the door steps, and a baby pram of some old brand.
Where once groomed laughter; song’s of children,
innocence, beauty, and thus was a cheerful state,
has now become an empty and forlorn state,
gone is its glory, and silent is its gate.