Not For Sale! Poem by Jim Yerman

I was thinking how I love our little house on our little plot of Earth
when in the mail a realtors advertisement asked, "How much is your house worth? "

Would we be interested in selling…although they couldn't be too precise
The advertisement assured me…we'd be astounded at the price.

And it occurred to me that question…as simple as it can be
depends on if you're asking the realtor…or if you're asking me.

A realtor might look at that bedroom door with a snicker or a frown…
He wouldn't know I hung it by myself…which is why we left it upside down.

A realtor might want those pieces mended outside our kitchen wall…
She wouldn't know that's where Ryan used to kick his soccer ball.

A realtor might look at that closet door and might be taken aback…
He wouldn't know, from the day Ali came to live with us, it's been coming off the track.

A realtor might want us to remove that sculpture, the one that looks so poorly made
She couldn't know Bryan made it with his own hands when he was in 1st grade.

They may want that old swing in the backyard removed, it's old and shows its wear.
How could they know our children and grandchildren have grown up swinging there.

They may want those cracks in the ceiling and along that one wall erased
They don't see them as we do, like wrinkles on this old home's face.

They might look at our house and see imperfections behind every window, every door
They wouldn't understand in our house, it's those imperfections we adore.

No, to a realtor this is just another house, as in search of houses they roam
But a long time ago it became much more to us, when it became our home.

So back to the question of the moment, how much is this old house worth
The house that has seen us through sadness and joy; through marriages and births.

The house where for over 30 years our family has laughed and cried and sat...
The answer is quite simple…you can't put a price on that!

At least that's what I was thinking…as the advertisement said ‘they'd pay cash! '
And why I smiled so contentedly as I tossed it in the trash.