An empty house



Empty House


Through broken panes a winter wind whispers

Of a past that’s long forgotten.

Crumbling steps and with winding vines

And leaves strew about the floor.

Hinges hang in awkward lines

Where paint has long since faded away.


A road barely visible among the forest floor

Leads to an empty home

Abandoned and forgotten.

Walls left only with memories

Of warm and roaring fires,

Parties late into the night,

Of joys and tears,

Of baby feet slapping on the floor,

Of lovers warm embraces after a separation,

Of struggles to survive the harsh winter months,

Of last breathes hushed into the night,

The smell of many meals singed into the wood

That no longer holds a purpose.


A home let uninhabited

Ceases to be a home

And weeps at its abandon.

Each wall sighs and bows with sadness

At the emptiness inside.

Longing for the day to have a home to hold.

This house will wait forever

Or until forever comes

To be filled with once again

A home in need of love.


Inspiration can stir me in a moment. There was just something about this abandoned building that inspired this poem. I just stumbled upon this building while hiking in Vermont and it wouldn’t leave my mind until I wrote this poem down.

What inspires you?


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