The house shivers and sighs, naked bones exposed.
Groaning againstÂ gentle breezes, wishingÂ to collapse,
but theÂ skeleton stubbornly holds.
SunkenÂ eyes devoid
of life stare out, judging the
world who so cruelly neglected intended purpose.
White picket fence, the last defense from
decay, remains locked tight,
taunting passersby’s with KEEP OUT
-as if anyone wants to COME IN.
But, the weary WELCOMEÂ mat still invites
us in . . . if we triple-dog-dare
to knowÂ the ghost of whoÂ you once could be.