The house that built me, full of love, full of pain. Full of laughter, and some of shame.
The house that built me, full of memories in that yard.
Cousins play, grown ups talk, tears were shed, some happy, some not
The years of wear and tear wouldn’t be taken back. They made the house that four generations have seen.
The house that built me, taught me much. To sew, to bake, to learn to take a break.
The house that built me, now not so strong. Her bones wear thin, just like those who live in it now.
So much love, so much pain, but the memories of all will remain the same. Even when the house’s walls are crumbling down.