Home Nor House

Home not a house,

but secretly so frail.

Burned, but not detroyed,

by a letter in the mail.

 

Home now a house,

one voice instead of two, 

is a home half empty,

what can a child do?

 

A house not a home,

with picture-less walls

and silent laughing,

echoing, lost through the halls.

This poem is about: 
My family

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