Hotel

There was an abandoned hotel,

A long forgotten heart,

Used to be full of light,

And now the floorboards fall apart.

There is mud on the floors,

And cracks in the windows,

The lights hang by loose threads.

Remnants of past visitors,

Who insisted they stay.

But not everyone who comes should never leave,

Only kept by rainy days.

Because hotels aren’t meant to keep everyone forever,

To be an anchor when their ship’s in the storm

And her heart could only hold enough,

Before inside became too warm.

They said it was okay,

Since she told them she didn’t mind,

When the fire in her hearth that blazed so strong,

Was running out of time.

Every tear they shed,

Every cold feeling they dropped,

Doused the fire a little more,

The fire that kept her heart.

The only constant there,

On the rocking chair,

Little brown and furry,

Tiny little bear.

A reminder of why she let them stay

Although it wore her down,

But she kept that sign

Hanging above the door,

Inviting people in

Even when she could hold no more.

Eventually they all moved out,

Without a single thank you,

Or goodbye

And she was left to pick up the pieces

As that little bear cried.

Because her heart isn’t a hotel,

For you to come and leave as you wish

And if you treat her like she’s free,

Next time you come to stay,

The door won’t open with your key.