Oh, Little House
O, little house.
Little house of memories.
With old locked doors
And missing keys
Places to go, things to see.
O, little house.
O, tiny house.
Tiny of house of no more laughter
Simply staring
It's children after
A great heavy weight upon its rafters.
O, tiny house.
O, lonely house.
Who is left to you this day?
All your children
Gone away.
Maybe they'll be back some day.
O, lonely house.
O, aging house.
Once a place of joy and learning.
Left alone
Left dearly yearning
The backs of children you raised now turning.
O, aging house.
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Santa Flaws
Sometimes I feel alone. Sometimes I don't. Honestly my emotions are the same either way. The problem is usually that I just don't feel at all. This is my panic. This is my call to arms.
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