This house was perfect
Outer givings managing to bring al of you on in
One harrowing tale at a time
But, be warned, for right inside these doors there lies an altogether separate story
Frighteningly sober, rather ironically
A father out back slaps an axe against a tree – drowned out in more ways than one
Hope dislodged, replaced entirely by painstaking misery
Pitted not so much as a livingroom filled with broken wits
One girl and one boy – resolutely abandoned
Nobody’s fools to ever care for
Money and wealth, perhaps, albeit a rather daft degree of unnatural earache
Utter uncertainty always creating an age-old story
False facade – masked by a brown paperbag placed metaphorically over their face
One sad and forgetful shopping trip after another
Milk and eggs fallen upon the floor
Open that door and you now see a painted on smile as opposed to a truthful frown
Tagged the right way down
For now, at least
‘Til you place out a hand, soon to uncover, discover, a brand new face
Please, do these children one such favour… try to bury this particular fallacy altogether

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