The Empty House

A clock winds down in the empty house.
A spider weaves at the moonlit door.
The temperature sheds another degree -
Nobody lives here anymore.

The kitchen sink sees another drip
And dust lies still, undisturbed, on the floor.
Unmoving shadows move with the hours, and
Nobody lives here anymore.

These walls were once filled with laughter
And tears and terror and toys
But there was love from the floor to the rafter
And there was music in every voice…

The beds lie made for the very last time
And leaded silence embeds to the core.
There are smiles in the photos that nobody sees
Because nobody lives here anymore.