Submitted in a poetry anthology, 2014, Creative Writing AS Course.
The house that reached the sky,
built by your ancestors,
I always thought the earth
had grown it just for you and I.
The house that swept the sun
Where we were Knights and Queens
Until the night rolled in,
And every battle left was won.
The house that weathered storms,
and civil wars between
our parents and ourselves,
And hiding there until day dawns.
The house that was too small,
the expended effort
To fit in small spaces,
Between claustrophobic walls.
The house that had been rotting,
Far longer than I’d known,
The ceiling falling in,
I watched our kingdom fall.