Silence greets me at the door,
Nothing but creaking of the floor.
Once alive with loud clamor,
Now it’s quiet, empty, forlorn.
Where has the joy of laughter gone?
The melody of music, the lyric of song?
Pittering and pattering as children run?
This empty house makes no sound.
The light is dark and dreary still,
No light shines on the window sill.
Even with light, the house will feel
Empty, lonely, forgotten and still.
The lonely chill of this dark, empty home,
Is like the ruined, ancient city of Rome;
Abandoned, ravaged, heaps of fallen stone,
Empty, unfriendly, and completely alone.
This empty home is no home at all.
Homes don’t need a roof and a wall.
The family and friends, there when we fall,
Are the foundation of homes, and of their halls.