The old house, with its green painted windows.


The house was gone,
And it felt wrong,
My lifetime’s dream
gone it seems.
The green painted wood,
Just a memory,
Lost in the new red bricks,
It makes me kinda sick.
So much history,
Returned to forgotten
In the new red bricks,
And windows, extra thick.
Empty walls,
And empty halls,
Empty bricks,
And a garden without sticks.

Karen Hayward ©2016

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Welcome to my blog! Here you will find different forms of creative writing, lots of swearing, erotic poetry, random thoughts, beautiful imagery, but most of all you will find a version of truth. My truth, this is the way that I see the world. However, all of my work is a form of creative writing, a combination of truth and fiction. I write to express my creativity, not my needs!

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