There is a house atop a hill
Lonely on the outskirts of town
The windows cracked, the shadows still
The vines crawl
And the grass is tall
Nature is claiming it back; running it down
The kids in town say it’s haunted
The wind that blows there is especially cold
Paint is chipped, no longer bright colors once flaunted
The door hangs on a hinge
Creaking eerily in the wind
A project that no realtor dares to grab hold
It contains the story of a family torn
Way back, many long years ago
A precious son died in war, leaving them to mourn
Sad and distraught
The parents, they fought
And for grief that daughter ended her own show
Now these empty walls take their stand
Against the fierce wind and driving rain
Left alone to face nature’s hand
It holds it secrets inside
In no one it will confide
Even after it crumbles and falls, the memories will always remain.
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