There stands a house,
A place expected
To be called a home.
However it is empty,
Desolate.
Too small of windows
Take in too little light.
Barren, cracked walls
Seem too depressing,
Lifeless.
Located away from all,
In the wilderness.
Pushed out of the world,
Into a hut of despair,
Loneliness.
There stands a house,
But it is not a home.
For being alone is not what
You see in your dreams, but
Nightmares.
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