Apr 2016
An empty farmhouse
Hemmed in by wire
Blackened by history
Blackened by fire
It draws me in
I clutch the fence
Squeezing my fingers through the gap
But the air is just the same
Cold and dead
On both sides now
Home farm
Hemmed in by wire
Blackened by history
Blackened by fire
It draws me in
I clutch the fence
Squeezing my fingers through the gap
But the air is just the same
Cold and dead
On both sides now
Home farm
Not far from my home is derelict Edwardian Farm, surrounded by a razor wire fencing it's a very lonely spot, but full of atmosphere.
