Wardrobes stuffed with clothes,
Cupboards crammed with treasure,
All those special items that could
Bring back memories of pleasure.
Bric-a-brac and souvenirs of
Special meaning just to herself,
I can feel the love and care taken
With each item on each shelf.
A lifetime's special possessions
All neatly there on display
I am the vandal commissioned
To sort and clear it all away.
There's no time for sentiment.
Though at times I blink back a tear.
This house is needed for others,
I have to see it clean and clear.
An Indian Army Veteran,
Frail and fragile looking wife
Who'd been with him in India,
Share hide Indian Army life.
In my very earliest memories
They had always been there
Always together
A very special pair.
I knew it couldn't be long when,
With one of them being gone,
The one left behind
Inevitably followed on.
Everything is carefully sorted.
I've done everything I can.
It's all ready to be taken
In the auctioneers van.
I have carried out their wishes,
Fulfilled promises that I made,
Now it's the sense of grieving
Which I know in time will fade.
One last look round and then
I'll sadly lock and close the door
Take the keys back to the landlord
I won't be calling here any more.
