A Toast to Death
By: Ann Christine Tabaka

The house stood lonely far too long.
Her emptiness exudes from very pore.
Dreams desperately cling to walls peeling with age.

Songs echo through shadows of once bright lives,
drowned out by creaks and moans.
Her blackened eyes see nothing but shame.

Neglect is the name that she bears.
She forgets all vestiges of love and joy,
as she crumbles one brick at a time.

Huge metal beasts stand ready to raze her body,
as the last drink, a toast to death,
still sits upon a dusty table.

Goodbye my faithful old friend.

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