- Books, Literature, and Writing
This Old House was
I wrote this poem when I was forced to leave my childhood home as I was entering college. My parents were on the verge of a divorce. The memories too much and the cost too high both parties agreed the house could not be kept. The memories were so great the house was hard to part with for all involved. So without further ado, I honor its memories with a poem.
This old house was our house.
It knew my sister before me.
Its floors cushioned many a fall from unsteady toddlers.
Its corners turned three little noises red when trouble was their nicknames.
The doors and walls kept a family safe and secure.
They were at times, what kept three little monsters from escaping!
The walls were what at times caused the mommy of the three little monsters to go crazy for on rainy days they were not far enough away.
The walls of the house are now bare except for some old nails where pictures, plaques, smiling faces, and achievements were hung.
Its halls and rooms now echo with emptiness.
As empty as it may be the memories made in this house are not to be forgotten no they will not be forgotten they live on in the minds of the family and last a lifetime.
For in it are memories as great as theirs that deserve to live on and never fade away.
This old house is going to missed by the family that leaves it but they know its spirit will live on and it will help a new family make memories that last a lifetime.