Beyond Poetry..

The Old Tin House

Raindrops fall on this old tin house conceding a memory we all hold dear, the old tin house not only holding our past but is now holding a brand new future.
The old tin house where dad cut wood mom cooked supper, sister stayed in bed and everyone had a marvelous time.
Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months-, the old tin house slowly creeped along, slowly moving on its side until it had its tragic crash the old tin house finally met his match, as it lay on its side we all standing  over the old tin house, where our childhood once stood, knowing it made us happy-, it made us sad-, but it's now gone but it will remain in our hearts forever.


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The Old Tin House

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