A pretty house lies on the top of the hill

The exterior is lovely but within is decay

The walls crumbling and wallpaper peeling

The foundation in shambles

Ghosts roam the corridors in search of the love from their parents they could never find

Children with tears staining their cheeks and bruises decorating their skin with watercolor blues and purples intermixing

Their wails for Mothers who've faded out of existence after being seen as nothing more than silent servants for so long

And fathers who used whiskey to replace emotions and violent words to beat down everyone else until their minds are nothing more than gravel and feel smaller then him

Fathers who never treated the children right but still call for them regardless

Broken picture frames with shards of glass line coat the floors

Cutting and keeping away anyone who tries to come near

Tears flood the basement and skeletons fill the closets

The house beyond repair