Oh, old house, I still remember

Running through your halls.

Eight years old with skinned-up knees,

You’d catch me when I’d fall.

You heard me laugh, you heard me cry—

Old house, you saw it all.

You watched when Mom and Dad would fight,

You held me through the longest nights.

You watched me grow and felt me run,

standing tall beneath the sun.

Then one day, we had to go.

I whispered you a soft goodbye.

We drove away, I turned to wave—

A “For Sale” sign beneath the sky.

You weren’t there as I grew old,

But sometimes I’d still drive by slow.

Until the day I turned that bend…

You lay in pieces. Nothing left.

They tore you down. It hurt to know.

My childhood, gone in one quick breath.

Your light pink walls reduced to dust.

The echoes quiet, the laughter hushed.

Goodbye, old house, and thank you

for the love you gave to us.