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.