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The House That Built Me
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Learning from the Past We passed that pink house
with the arches
and the large porch.
My whole life
flooded back
as I stared at
the house that built me.
The mailbox looks different;
the new owners must have painted it.
And I don't recognize the cars
parked out on the driveway.
So much has changed
including me.
I thought I could find myself
if I just walked in that red door,
but that little girl is long gone.
Her room with purple walls
and shelves of stuffed animals
were replaced with
grownup furniture
and broken dreams.
The house that built me
was just a memory in my mind,
a lost feeling
in this heart of mine.
Wow, so simply, so powerfully
Wow, so simply, so powerfully sums up what haunts us all, until we go back & let God close those old doors....
....you have such a way with words.....it speaks to many, yet so intimately showing the deeper things hiding.....
....keep using your gift!!!
~Anastazia Rowe ~