Come come, let’s give you a tour.
This place hold many things,
I’ll point them all out to you.
Follow close now, this will be quick.

Here are the rocks.
You can see that some of them have cracked.
If not turned frequently,
They will shatter.

This used to be the garden.
Colors, vegetation, life,
All used to reside here.
Neglect has left it rotten and bare

Locked behind this door,
Sealed away,
This we cannot see
Others have forbidden it

The bedroom here is quaint.
Decorated with someone else.
Everything was selected and chosen
Just as it should be.

Ah, here we have a place of solitude
Many a thought, pondered here.
The sterile white provides
Excellent space.

The yard lacks.
Stubble litters the lawn.
These fake plastic flamingos
Are to be burned.

This barely works anymore.
There used to be entertainment here.
I can’t bear how hard it used to be
Just to turn the **** thing on.

That concludes the tour.
I hope you saw everything you wanted.
Don’t stare at the windows too hard
On the way out.