Those pillars of yoursStand uprooted siltO, Mr HouseYou’re the home for mist. Your walls blunderedYou’re abandonedO, Mr HouseYou’re freaking sick. Your doors screamingAs we pass you threeO, Mr HouseWoods are slicy thick. Fans with lengthy rodsRetrieving your arrivalO, Mr HouseYou’re old and rival. Your property’s costLeast my memories withinO, Mr HouseYou’re my family’s heart in.
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Poetry Pot 