Street

Brown House, built ‘long side the dusty street
Where he stands in awe 'n wonder.
Rusty Brick, hides where his heart used to beat,
Anxious for life’s bright allure.

Doorway, opened and closed o’er ‘n o’er again,
Concealed the patter of little feet.
Small rounded face with dancing eyes and grin,
In for sup, his fam’ly would meet.

Years've past and nobody's home, but far away,
Molding and shaping their future’s clay!
The deafening tumult of life crashes by –
And on his old, dusty street, breaks another day.