Quip's Corner - A Lil' Ole House

A lil’ old man lived in a lil’ old house down a long and weedy path
The house was nothing more then a dirty box, a place in which he sat
No family to speak of, basically old and all alone
Other then the house and a flea-bitten hound dog, there was nothing to call his own
This lil’ ole house that parents avoided and kids loved to fear
Well, it was as if this lil’ ole house was alive and had life’s sensitive ears
It could feel the man’s loneliness and hear his bones creak from the years of life’s indifference
But the house sat idly by, simply sheltering the man in this, his life sentence
Age danced and painted it’s cruel portrait across the ole man’s face, shoulders and back
Until it’s masterpiece was complete, hunched over, unable to stand straight, left in crumpled tattered mass, nothing more life lacked
Days turned to years, the dog wandered away to live, seasons turned an aloof shoulder to the man’s daily pain
Until one day, when unable to rise from bed, in a light frigid mist, it began to rain
The shackles became loosened on the ole man’s withered body and warmth filled his soul
A smile flickered across the man’s dry and shriveled lips, down a wrinkled cheek, a tear began to roll
The lil’ ole man rose from bed, leaving the years behind him in a withered shell
Peace, a stranger he had never met, embraced and held him, releasing his earthly hell
Life’s heartless etchings faded from the ole man’s brow, he did not fear of where to roam
This would be a glorious day, for the ole man was going home!