I remember seeing on television a man who had suffered the loss of his home because of a fire. He was screaming “I’m tired of hearing it was just a house! A home that you have lived in has many memories both good and bad that never seem to leave us.
Over 50 years ago, the house I grew up in was torn down because it was a blighted area. Someone said to me:
“It’s just a house. Why are you so sad?”
Those words prompted me to write this poem:
Not just a house that once stood here,
But of the years a souvenir,
This was the house i lived in you see...
A house that will always live in me.
Today, I can’t go back physically, but I can close my eyes and walk down the street, approach the house, open the door, walk through all the rooms! Although all the memories are not good, I try to skip over to the beautiful ones. I hope that, somehow, the people who have lost their homes know that someone out here knows what they are feeling. It is worse to lose lives, but loss of your home is not insignificant or just a house!
P.S. I believe the man on national TV was from Texas
