The Waiting

( Saw this dilapidated house near Ranala, on a rainy Sunday afternoon, as I drove past it  with the missus to buy some flower pots for us. The house looked striking with its despair. I captured it for further mulling... here's how )

The shiny tar road

contrasts the view

of despair, rot and collapse!

Waiting,

for the monsters,

Brightest yellow,

Ruthless limbs,

Forceful buckets,

To bring you down

Rid  the eye sore

For a  bright  ‘morrow

With wider roads

Did you house back then ?

A  flirty tease ?

A  sensual moan?

A baby’s cry ?

A  toddler’s giggle?

The youth’s mirth ?

Or a mother’s sobs,

Of a past dark era ?

Or a young man’s grief,

for his old man,

gone too soon,

with no regard?

Do you still ache,

for those  cherished voices,

within your musty walls,

from a time gone by,

of joy and cry ?

As you wait,

for your own end,

any day now...