The color they are painted says a lot. The gray, the light yellow, the dark yellow, the light green, the dark green, and the pink. They all have different stories to be told. The cracks in between their unpainted mark, the rust in front of their mouths. They don’t say a word, they just speak with one another, since they are so close to each other. But I hear them, I sense their pain and memories.

 The gray, no one pays attention to him, he was undone, no one cared enough to cheer him up.

 The light yellow, she’s free but she still feels pain. She slowly fades away, with white marks here and there around her eyes.

 The dark yellow, she is depressed, she covers herself with junk and green flowers to cover her tears.

The light green, he is getting old, he’s injured. He has steel wires running throughout his body, to keep him standing.

The dark green, he’s an outsider. He has a way up to keep him standing as well.

And lastly, the pink. She’s small, she only has one eye and a rusted mouth that doesn’t open anymore.

They all suffer through so much but they manage to stand still and tall, so that the poor old people can live inside them. They are just houses with lots of emotions because of the lives the old people have lived. Those emotions and memories are passed down throughout centuries.

They speak louder than the humans but not everyone notices.

  But I did...