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Array
(
[sid] => 121605
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => THE GUTTED HOUSE: a house with out faith
[time] => 2006-06-11 04:15:48
[hometext] => true story... thanks for taking the time to read and commenting.... lots of gratitude
[bodytext] => once passing through there with music ringing in my ear country home colors spreading through out this much lived in house... There was a man who distanced himself away from a home that would fall apart someday yet once a little girl there, I felt a safe and secure world in the heart and voice so strong echoing from the music room, my other mom carrying on with much faith love echoed through out the walls that day stories to tell of a family lived well now years later a house gutted, dark and grey for it reflects a slow and painful death underneath the rich colored walls that deteriorated in a broken down love “he said, she said” he checked out she sobbed he was a man living there from day to day in his own world non existent to her pain a house un-cared for though the house did last long in richness and color when she let her faith uphold her but now this house reflects neglect sorrow and bitterness with walls dark and cold and broken drafts coming through the broken windows for the souls of life there, had long died and now the smells and sounds of rats and sights of swarming roaches reflects this gutted house of emptiness yet I reflect on the memory of music in my ears my heart soaked in a flood of tears broke to the core of my heart no more can I bare this disaster I must leave, shut the door walk away from the memories that there poured sad this is he abandoned her heart broke it to pieces when her vision of the perfect happiness shattered because God didn’t answer her prayers after years and years of faith she was destined to be shattered in her pain giving up on their home soon to be abandoned, left alone she once held this home together hiding the pains and neglect that existed there now, a home, a family in despair the home they had there now belongs to the roaches and rats ramping around inside, front and back where the memories of children use to laugh once a little girl there, now a grown woman looking back looking in at the house I used to play at now dark grey and gutted like this, I am to never let down on my faith it would only leave little remains of a house of bitter cold, dark, frames of grey for this is what a house is with out faith [comments] => 2 [counter] => 205 [topic] => 32 [informant] => Adelle [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => SadPoetry )
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