The Little Seafront House

A short story-poem I wrote about a little boy and a house (to put it simply). I've heard the term 'a love letter to life', and I would like to think it's like that. It speaks of life, love (in its many forms), loss, and the inevitable passing of time, and how maybe we need not fear it. Do you ever think about what's real and what's not? Reality, I suppose, but also what lives inside our heads; from imaginary childhood friends to the strange thing that is 'life'. Anyway, I think it can be whatever you want it to be; there is no singular label or tag to define poetry, just as there is no linear definition of 'love', though society sometimes seems to think so. But I shall deposit this poem into the world and hope just one other person can find as much joy in it as I have :)