Poems for Eleanor Snape

Home

It was dark,

It was quiet,

It was home.

It was wet, but shouldn't have been.

A broken window, here and there.

The ceiling rotted.

It wasn't suppose to be like that.

Cold,

Yes.

Abandoned and wet,

No.

My home was ruined.

Why was this?

Perhaps it wasn't my home.

That's why.

It was no longer my home.

It no longer lived on.

In the end it turned to ash.

Like my father,

Like everything else,

Eventually.

Yes, my home was no longer my home.

How long had this been?

As soon as the fire went out.

Then, Spinner's End became my home...

Perhaps it was all along...