Poem_As Yet Untitled. Inspired nby A'net's "a small sunburnt shack"

It stands forgotten there--
Lost, alone, abandoned--
Where rain and frigid cold, winds and scorching heat
Ravage, weather.
It had been a home once
Now it no longer even deserves the title "house"
It used to be red and cheery, a hub of activity.
No more.
It has faded to grey--
The warped wood shelter only for termites who've carved their paths like tribal tattoos into teh flesh of the structure--
And lost more than half its shingles
The windows have been smashed, leaving
Gaping Holes
Like caves for dead leaves, dust, dirt, and the odd mouse,
The door the last memory as Home,
A tribute,
A sign for any weary wanderer to come and take its precarious shelter.
Roses border it, still faintly seen--
The only color left.
It waits patiently for the Return,
For the Homecoming,
For when feet will once again tread on hardwwood, thread-bare carpet, creaky stairs, and cracked tile
For when laughter echos down the halls instead of the mere faint echo of a memory.
It stands forgotten there--
Lost, alone, abandoned--
Ravaged by Time and patiently
Waiting

<3

Love is a strange thing. I feel like Champagne; all golden, glowy, and bubbly. I can hardly wait just to hold his hand, to hug him, to look into his eyes. Who would have thought that a Tom-boy like me would become so lovey-dovey, head-over-heals in love, spouting corny sayings, and daydreaming about looking into his eyes? I wonder if anyone would have guessed that I'd be such a romantic. Who would have thought that I'd be happy just to hold hands and cuddle on the couch while watching TV and talking on the phone for hours. I never would have thought that someone else besides my mother would have taken the role of "home." I don't know when I started thinking of him as home, more so than I thought of mom as home. I wonder if that will change. I hope not. I can't imagine him not being 'home' for me, though I never used to be able to imagine that mom wasn't 'home' either. Well, she's still home, but she's second. Meople's home is another I consider 'home.' But he gets the gold above them all. And yet, I feel nervous to go to his house. I'm not nervous because of him, but because of his parents; I care what they think and it will be a little awkward to be with him and them. But I love him, and once I'm there, I will be fine. And he will be with me. And we'll be together. For a couple days at least. And the I will go to Meople's home for the 4th of July and the weekend right after.