Whispers of hope drift in a deserted corridor

Tendrils of dreams dragging in the dust

Windows looking out, blanked in dirt and webs

Doors that lead only to darkened emptiness


Is it a haunted house? or simply one time forgot

If it is forgotten does it still exist or is it merely mist?

Floating in the memories of those that ventured in

Is it even a house or is that a convenient form?


If we forget what the word house means

What purpose windows and doors serve?

Does it remain that or is it something else?

No longer convenient or even functional


If we return to the house can we return its function?

Can it be lived in and the receptacle of memories

Photographs line the walls lest we forget

Windows shimmering in the sunlight, bright and airy

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