Atop the hill sits the old empty house,
Weathered by time, the deep silence
is broken by the brushing barren branches
that reach out to the abandoned home.
I close my eyes and imagine life within,
when children were once lived and played.
The hard life of the family in sorrow and joy,
stood as one beneath the roof above.
Strength left with them, its legacy to carry
packed with each memory, never to leave.
The empty house’s foundation stands like a rock.