This House is not a Home

This House is not a Home

As I look around the room
In its disrepair
The beauty is still here
In this house
where we raised our children
Your essence is everywhere

The dirt and grime is thick
Covering the furniture and drapes
The height chart on the wall
no longer visible
and there’s the chair where you
bandaged the scrapes

Memories of our family
Are buried deep in this grime
Layers of our life disguised
In the filth of other’s lives
But their neglect
is the only crime

That you are gone from my life
is the tragedy I cannot bear
This house no longer my home
I just came to see
if you were still here
Why is life so unfair?

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

In response to Mish’s Challenge at dVerse Poets Beauty in Ugliness

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Published by Christine Bolton

I have been writing poetry since I was a child and it has helped in the good times and bad times. I am always looking within to find the answers to life's problems and to write thought-provoking poetry and prose. Thanks for checking it out. Christine

28 thoughts on “This House is not a Home

  1. I’m moved by your About Me, too. True heartbreak is different from anything else. Thinking about it, talking about it, analyzing it… can all be helpful. But doing something about it … turning it into art and finding meaning in it, as you are… that’s the healing. – tsk

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    1. Thank you Kim. I am always interested at how houses take on the personalities of the owners and this story is told over and again. 🙂💕

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  2. You worked so well with the image!
    It’s interesting…several years ago we took a trip back to the Midwest, rented a car and drove around my home town…I’m in my seventh decade now. It was very sad to see the house I spent my early years in….yard overgrown, front steps and porch rickety and askew, paint peeling…..you can never go back. I remember wishing I’d left it intact in my memory. Your poem reminds me of that.

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    1. Yes Lillian, it’s had happened to me too. You can never go back, it’s heartbreaking. 😞 Thank you for reading.

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    1. Yes the character still saw the beauty through the ugliness of the room. Thanks for reading it V.J.

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  3. This was heartwrenching, but perfect. Every time I see a deserted house, I am always lost in wonder at what the walls could say if they could speak. I usually have to write a poem about it!

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  4. Oh if walls could talk, they would have so much to say… but there is always something beautiful to be found, whether its in memories, lessons learned or new perspectives. A very moving piece.

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