They look strong
With their concreteness.
Facing every storm
With an undaunted resilience.
They never bow down
Nor do they bend.
They just carry on
Like a tough hand.
The passersby marvel
at its beauty and stand.
Ignorant of all
That goes behind.
Who knows what storm
They fight inside.
Life ticks away
And it spites itself quiet.
It stays strong
Deceiving our eyes.
It hides a story
Behind its tough walls.
Every house is a father.
Who comforts you in its arms.
And like the old man
Leaves you with its rusting walls.
A house isn't a house.
It's a soul you never carry.
And a body that
You can never possibly bury.