The Hillside House. May 22, 2022
There is a house, just off the bay,
its my favourite place to get away.
Down the road, along the coast,
to the place, I love the most.
The house on the hill stood forgotten and cold.
Windows empty woodwork rotting and old.
Voices long silent, footfalls unfelt.
Cookies in the kitchen, long time unsmelt.
Drips from the ceiling, left colourful stains.
And gone from the windows, all the glass pains.
Once happy and warm, a wonderful place.
Now empty and neglected, a sad disgrace.
