Old Home

There is something about an old home,

with boarded windows and a broken stove,

shattered glass and old dirty clothes,

ripped walls and dusty smokes,

the smell of old wood and lit coals,

cobweb filled rooms freezing cold,

Ceilings and roof are tarnished and barely able to hold

porch barely seen under the corrode,

overgrown weeds and bugs around the abode,

was this a happy home with love and laughter tones,

where children were raised without telephones,

maybe a farm home with animals in tow,

Could have been a lost home with sadness and dark souls,

heartbreak or assholes,

or even a safe house for the unknown,

this my friend, only the superior knows.