Playhouse
Remembering Childhood and the Hurt of Growing Up...
It was the first place I cooked dinner,
Did dishes and was mom,
My first load of laundry,
And swept the porch off.
Watched the birds in the yard
And the bugs on the sill
Planted flowers for spring
And veggies for fall
It was my house
My dreams lived there
It was my escape
My fears were not known there
It was my dream
I had a family there
It was my home
My heart lived there.
Now I visit after fifteen years
Hoping it can still stand
I shudder when I see
And tears start to fall
But the things I dreamed here
Will live on with me
In my heart held near
With my real family to share and see.
About the Creator
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