The house is in need of paint, father,

plaster peels off the walls.

The verandah stares vacant and blank,

no life within its halls.

It’s just a house, I said to myself

as I passed down that road,

just a house, abandoned and dark

that once housed our souls.

How can it then be, just a house?

I thought again as I gazed at it.

This is the house where you died

and the home where we lived.

So do not laugh if you find me there

gazing back in time and space

there are houses and then there are houses

not all of them broker peace.

Taunt me not if I see my childhood

etched on every parapet and sill

I may grow in years but am none the wiser 

and this little girl needs you still.