Just a house;
Eight windows,
Six doors,
Five walls.
Just a house.
But to me,
It was so much more.
Behind that bright,
Blue paint,
A treasure laid.
Memories.
Growing,
Expanding
With each sunlit day.
A Christmas tree,
Sparkling in the void of night,
The first I've ever seen.
A puppy,
Tail raised with vigor,
Running through a dew-stained yard,
Golden coat,
Shining under the mid-day sun.
Friends,
Clustered around a television set,
Watching,
As shouts of enthusiasm
Blare through the room.
A hand
Extending, towards me
Opening,
Revealing the sleek, unsoiled screen
Of a cell phone,
Of trust,
Embodied in steel.
All these thoughts run through my mind
Glistening,
In my eyes,
As tears caress my cheeks.
The cold, black car,
Begins to move
Rolling down the ash-clad road,
Moving further,
Further,
From all I know.
Soon,
My house starts to
Vanish,
In the distance,
Silhouetted,
By the setting sun.
No,
It wasn't just a house.
It was
Sorrow,
Joy,
Fear,
Love,
Wonder,
Knowledge,
Pleasure,
Pain,
It was,
My home.
