Childhood Home

Pack up the boxes

We are leaving Home. 

Watching my parents cry

We all feel so alone.

"If you cannot pay the mortgage,

You need to leave.

You have a two weeks warning

Before we take the keys."

My childhood lives within those walls.

A new family moving in cannot fill the halls. 

They say money cannot buy happiness.

But the lack there of has caused this seperation.

Not a material want, but an emotional need.

Memories growing and thriving, just like a weed. 

One goal in life that shall never change:

 Buy that house back without flipping the page. 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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