Free form verse I wrote awhile ago, and thought I’d share.

In every house
there is a soul
Some tame, some wild
But souls nonetheless
With tales to tell
Secrets only the listener knows
Raw truths marked only by the passage of time
The lines soft and welcoming
Like wrinkles in an old woman’s smile
Scars on that pristine facade
Passersby see and judge
But never feel
They never know how the strong winds have ripped at its bones
How fire licked softly at its skin and turned the white picket fence to ash
Yet it remains
As promising as a newborn’s cry as dawn breaks upon its beloved head
Its foundation made a fortress through the pain
Standing silently under a cloudless blue sky
Waiting only for its master
To come home