Old houses

Old houses

Hold more than memories

Crumbling plaster

Curling wallpaper

Last seen before the war

Tinder dry newspapers

Used as underlay

Headlines of yesteryear

Who knows where

The bodies are buried

So much laughter

Too much pain

Pull it down

There is no history

Only an eyesore

Whole streets,

Back to back

Swept away

New brooms

Flourished in anger

By old souls

Fighting to remain

Tied to the past

Searching for relevance

In a disposable world

Of affordable

Obsolescence

As dreams go up in smoke

Home fires burn

Non-returnables

An old sofa never

Let you down

It was a love seat

A comfort to lazy boys

Gave solace to the lost

Generation

Bloodied neighbourhood

Bruisers

So much grief

Laid to rest

In a sad end street