The old abandoned light house that was always on the shore. I never stopped shining bright to guide the lost ships home. I never lost my use, the abandoned light house was always there. Light houses are supposed to sleep in the sunlight, and keep awake at night, alert of all surroundings, like a watchdog. I might not look like much, you see, they call me abandoned because I haven't been touched in quite some time, but I promise a story hides beneath these cracks I like to call wrinkles from smiling a wee bit too much at the hue colored sunsets, but that's the thing, ships like to mistake my smile for something else, they see my smile  and they usually look for a way to leave, and they don't see the word "stay" tattooed on my *****, I guess stay doesn't mean anything. The ships never stay for long, just short stops to refuel or rest. Though my light is always guiding them home, they rarely come back. Sometimes I scare them away, I guess they only see this abandoned light house as something to fear, and not something to love. My cracked windows and fading colors don't attract many fans my way. They don't love broken and run down things, always looking for the newer ones. But no matter what they do I'll always shine my light to guide the ships home. I wonder how many strangers carry pieces of a shipwreck in their rough, sandpaper-like hands, I wonder how many strangers won't find their way back home tonight, I wonder if their wives' lipstick stained their hearts just because they knew they may never get to wake up accompanied by their significant other again. I see so many stories in rosy checked - unshaved beard faces, and it makes my light illuminate them instead of what lies ahead of them because I want to be used as their hotel for one night, maybe a one night stand type of deal, I just want to be filled with laughter, and I want their words to stick in my mouth. I want to feel their love, the love of a sailor lost at sea who finally found his way home. I want to know what its like to be missed so much after being gone for so long, but people don't miss anything thats abandoned, let alone a light house that still shines. I want to be cared for like the sailors when they get home, treated like something people need and want so dearly. I know I'm needed, but they don't see that. I am not wanted by anyone, I'm just a ramshackle light house that no one likes to see. My light may help guide them, but they don't care for me as I do for them. They look forward to seeing land, to going home, but they don't look forward to see my light. I want people to stay long enough to see the waves crash into each other, and see the way the stars twinkle like tiny fires on the water in the moonlight. You see, I still sing, but my melodies sound like the moans and groans of ghosts, maybe that's what scares everyone off?¿ my life is an open book, most people don't read more than a few paragraphs...this sinking feeling is knowing that my light doesn't want to be seen with me anymore, so it dies off like the life inside me did.