In the house where laughter once bloomed,
Now echoes linger in silent gloom,
Where whispers carry a weighty despair,
Children tread softly, hearts laid bare.
For family affairs, a tangled skein,
Weaves secrets tight in a web of pain,
Their innocence caught in the adult fray,
Longing for solace, a safe haven to stay.
Voices raised like crashing waves,
Cracks in walls, like broken caves,
Where once they found shelter, now they roam,
In a house that feels less like home.
In the kitchen, where meals once shared,
Now tension lingers, heavy and bared,
Their sanctuary turned into a stage,
Where drama unfolds, page by rage.
Yet through the turmoil, they silently yearn,
For warmth and love, a steady return,
To mend the fractures, to heal the scars,
And reclaim the essence of home's gentle stars.
For home is not just walls and roof,
But a refuge, a place for hearts aloof,
Where forgiveness blooms and kindness reigns,
And peace restores what drama stains.
So let compassion mend what's torn,
In the fabric of family, worn and worn,
For the children's sake, let love ignite,
And make their house a home, in every light.
YOU ARE READING
This house was never a home
ŞiirThis place was never home, The things that lie in it was memorizing some a taunting memory other pleasant some not
