An aging house sits at the end of the street
No one leaves as no one dare enter
How long has the house craved a family
Long before time began to be charted
But if it was desperate before time was considered existent
Does that make the house an everlasting entity
If the house really wants to be a home
Why doesn't it become more appealing
Why doesn't it fill itself with nice couches and a kitchen that exerts blessed scents
Why does its lights remain off
Why does it continue to stand starving
Why doesn't it try
I look away from the mirror and abandon my answer
Because 'I don't care' no longer suffices
