What Must This Place Have Been?

(Drawing by Author)

How many times have we passed a boarded-up dwelling and thought, "How sad that a place has no one to care for it."  One of our contributors put those musings into poetry.

       Deserted House

I stopped to visit the other day
An old, deserted house along the way.

It once stood proudly, sturdy and clean.
The roof sags now, the walls do lean.
 
Windows through which those inside did peer
Are shuttered or broken, unsightly, unclear.

The siding is loose, boards broken, worn thin,
Once kept out the weather, now everything gets in.

The porch onto which visitors trekked
With holes in its stairs, time has since wrecked

What was surely a home once painted brightly,
But now faded, derelict, unsightly.

Grass and flowers back then did grow there.
Weeds have replaced them, needing no care.

Where are the people who spent part of their lives there?
Did they hasten to leave, did they die, or not care?

Someone once built it with nails, love, and wood.
Couldn't someone remain there? Was there no one who could?

The shelter, this refuge with people did share,
Now abandoned, forsaken, beyond all repair.

This house deserved better. Is there someone to care?   By Ronald Paul Sturga

(Our thanks to Ron for sharing his writing and artwork with us.)