The House Next Door Poem by Debora Soramaki

The house next door
Was a mystery to me,
Blood and gore
Was all I could see,
Death on the floor,
No life could there be,
Doomed for all eternity.
But soon a man appeared in sight,
Who seemed to take away the fright.
All his time he devoted to care
For his mother who needed a wheelchair.
He had no time to fix his home.
The field mice were free to roam,
But many now came to lend a hand,
Soon beautiful flowers grew on his land.
The house began to beam with life,
As joy surrounds his fathers wife.