Five Ways of Looking at a House


It’s just a house.

That’s all.




Bricks and mortar.

A good investment.

Something to barter,

A step on the ladder.




A nest to raise our young.

It’s not a house, it’s a home.

Somewhere they can always

Come back to.

A place always open and warm.




This house is a prison,

A life I didn’t choose.

Shackles on my freedom.

A gilded cage,

My warden a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

No way of escape.




It’s an eyesore.

It’s an infringement of our privacy.

These new builds overshadowing our gardens.

We worked hard, we invested,

We raised our families.

Now we shuffle about in too-big mausoleums,

Testaments to a life well lived,

Soon to be sold for care home fees.



#NaPoWriMo2017 Day6

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