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