Life Lessons From the Real Estate Industry


United States
45° 47' 59.9028" N, 122° 33' 3.816" W

I once knew of a girl,
Roaming and young,
Who closed her eyes when it rained,
And envied the sun.

She wandered the streets,
With fear deep in her gut,
She called out for refuge,
But all doors remained shut.

Her shoes wore to nothing,
Her pockets emptied of food,
Til she spotted a house so noble,
Any description would be crude.

She approached the door timidly,
And it opened slightly at first,
Then swung out to reveal a hall,
That was seemingly cursed.

The walls were scarred,
The windows were cracked,
But from her love of the house,
These couldn't detract.

She entered the house,
And as she advanced,
The shadows came alive,
And started to dance.

They told her a story,
Of harsh memories.
Full of ache and abuse,
They let out their pleas.

She cried with the ghosts,
She kissed the walls,
She listened to the secrets,
She sang to the halls.

The house became mended,
With time and with care,
Although its beauty wasn't perfect,
All she could do was stare.

The house heated up,
For it did love her so,
The shadows became light,
And helped her to grow.

She kept the house light,
And the house kept her warm.
Their love continued to brew,
Til it was as strong as a storm.

But the girl awoke one morning,
And sensed the air had changed,
She turned to the breeze,
And saw something strange.

The back door had opened,
At the end of the hall,
She knew what this meant,
And she tried not to fall.

She asked the house why,
When really, deep down,
She agreed it was time,
But she still wore a frown.

She gathered herself,
Kissed the house goodbye,
And as she stepped out the door,
She thought she heard the house sigh.

She continued to wander,
While stroking her heart,
She put her pen to the paper,
It was time for a fresh start.



Kept my attention through the whole thing, I loved that it was a story. The title was something that I thoroughly enjoyed, too.

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