Long Forgotten

An old house upon the hill

Sitting quietly, sitting still

Dusty everywhere with dirty windows cracked

Broken down shelves and old books stacked

Moth-eaten rugs and rotted boards

Rusty armor and equally rusted swords

A garden then, now overgrown weeds

Shovels, rakes, trowels, and expired seeds

Broken mirrors and pipes where no water runs

Plumbing aged by many moons and suns

Paintings covered in cobwebs galore

Antique china dishes and much more

Garlic and pots of copper sway up high

Where bundles of spices were left to dry

Up creaky steps with a rickety banister of wood

A scuffed mark on the floor where a statue once stood

Now unrecognizable with furniture covered in sheets gone black

Through the gloom, one can see a stream of light through a crack

Long forgotten, dusty, and broken down

No one to fill the space with laughter or sound

Once beautiful and filled with movement and play

But... it is just forgotten now and everyone stays away.

This poem is about: 
Me

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