House for Sale
I stood in the midst of the empty house,
It was silent, empty, and bare,
gone was the laughter the tears and the life,
and the family that once lived there.
I stood there observing, to try to revive
the memories this house had to share,
the secrets, excitement, unhappiness too,
these feelings so willing to bear.
I heard children playing and lapping up life,
I heard adults talking and scolding,
This house bore it all with its solid repose,
and accepted with wisdom beholding.
I stood in the midst of the empty house,
with a feeling of sadness around,
abandoned and empty, a lonely shell,
for the place never uttered a sound,
it was silent and bare, where the rooms had been stripped
and the furniture taken away,
the paint had been scratched and the floor left unwashed
when the house was abandoned that day.
The ghosts from its past walk through each lonely room,
and I sigh as I button my coat,
I slam the front door with an echoing bang
and a lump seems to lodge in my throat-
for there on the green lawn for all eyes to see
with dark letters outstanding on pale
is a board standing taut in the cold winter sun
with the large, lonely wording- "For Sale"
poem by Margaret Hanning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The House
For many years, the house
stood empty and forlorn.
The windows had been boarded
preventing the sunlight coming in.
No welcoming mat lay by the door;
laughter was a thing of the past
as spiders spun their webs
within the gloomy silence.
The house stood empty
abandoned by most living things
and there were those who said
spooky goings on went on
after night fell in there.
No one could prove it
because no one would stay there.
Only the fool hardy
would ever enter after dark.
The paintwork pealed
and the front door creaked
if someone dared to open it.
They say the house is haunted,
but no one knew
by what or who.
The house began to crumble
as each season came to pass.
The glory of its birth
lay somewhere in the past
and now the crumbling walls
would never reveal
any of the secrets that it knew.
Then a fire started
by a hand unseen
and the house finally died
within its own funeral pyre
15 March 2011
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Monument Of All Our Wrongs
i build a house
no one likes it.
the house is empty
i put some chairs.
someone comes and
says, this house is
lonely, it needs
a sound
it is boring and needs
a paint
i put a tree beside
its stairs
i grow another
fence
i put a lone bulb
on a post
and leave the house
for good
that is what the
house is made
there is always
missing
something is
always wrong
this is the house
of regret
it is the monument
of all our wrongs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The House Beside The Road
The house beside the road,
Where people lived
And children played,
Is empty now
And falling down.
The echos of happy feet
Are heard now,
Tapping to the sound
Of Poppy's fiddle,
But the house beside the road
Is empty.
When a gentle voice
Is heard in the house,
It's only a singing breeze
Sifting itself through
The cracks in the roof of
The house beside the road.
poem by Scarlett Treat
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This House Is Empty Now
(costello/bacharach)
These rooms play tricks upon you
Remember when they were always filled with laughter
But now theyre quite deserted
They seem to just echo voices raised in anger
Maybe you will see my face
Reflected there on the pane
In the window up above for long
In broken home
Yet this house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
These walls were lined with pictures
Remember the glass we charged in celebration
But now I fill my life up
With all that I can to deaden this sensation
Do you recognize the face
Fixed in that fine silver frame
Were you really so unhappy there
You never said
So this house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do to make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
Oh, if I could just become forgetful
When night seems endless
Does the extinguished candle care
About the darkness
Its funny how the memory
Will bring you so close then make you disappear
Meanwhile all our friends must choose
Who they will favour, who they will lose
Hang the garland high, or close the door
Or throw away the key
This house is empty now
Theres no one living here
You have to care about
This house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how am I supposed to live without you
This house is empty now
This house is empty now
Theres nothing I can do
This house is empty now
This house is empty now
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Cybil
I sit here, sad and lonely,
speaking to the sea.
As it's kindly listening to me,
in this little house that's empty.
Am I lost to be here?
To be in a little house before the sea.
As quiet as it might be,
beautified by tranquility.
Swallow flies above me,
Sunset is in front of me,
But you're not here beside of me,
this little house remains still incomplete.
In this little house,
I wish you come home,
I've been tired and lonesome.
I've stared at the sea for so long and long.
I sit here again, quiet and lonely.
I've been thinking thoughtfully.
From this little house, I see and see,
far off the sea, there's you,
and me..
poem by Kite Remedy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
New Found Sympathy
The dust is all that's left
To this lonely room
A few boxes remain
But they'll be gone soon
The pictures that formed the wall
Now belong to the trash
And all the pretty fixtures
Have long been detached
The house that held sunlight
Now only emphasizes gray
Rooms are no longer shining
And I wish it weren't that way
Lonely and empty is this house
But it's not the only one
That lost it's cheer and happiness
Where it's brightness has gone
I wish I could go back
To see what would have been
If thing's hadn't have gone wrong
If I'd still be in this house with him
poem by Airda Jones
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The House with Nobody in It
Whenever I walk to Suffern along the Erie track
I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black.
I suppose I've passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for a minute
And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in it.
I never have seen a haunted house, but I hear there are such things;
That they hold the talk of spirits, their mirth and sorrowings.
I know this house isn't haunted, and I wish it were, I do;
For it wouldn't be so lonely if it had a ghost or two.
This house on the road to Suffern needs a dozen panes of glass,
And somebody ought to weed the walk and take a scythe to the grass.
It needs new paint and shingles, and the vines should be trimmed and tied;
But what it needs the most of all is some people living inside.
If I had a lot of money and all my debts were paid
I'd put a gang of men to work with brush and saw and spade.
I'd buy that place and fix it up the way it used to be
And I'd find some people who wanted a home and give it to them free.
Now, a new house standing empty, with staring window and door,
Looks idle, perhaps, and foolish, like a hat on its block in the store.
But there's nothing mournful about it; it cannot be sad and lone
For the lack of something within it that it has never known.
But a house that has done what a house should do,
a house that has sheltered life,
That has put its loving wooden arms around a man and his wife,
A house that has echoed a baby's laugh and held up his stumbling feet,
Is the saddest sight, when it's left alone, that ever your eyes could meet.
So whenever I go to Suffern along the Erie track
I never go by the empty house without stopping and looking back,
Yet it hurts me to look at the crumbling roof and the shutters fallen apart,
For I can't help thinking the poor old house is a house with a broken heart.
poem by Joyce Kilmer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Little Yellow Butterfly
Oh, liitle yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in
and let your shadow
fill the empty wall
as I watch closely
till I fall asleep.
Oh, little yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in
and change the color of my life
with your tiny yellow wings.
Oh, little yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in
I have prepared flowers for you
so you can stay with me
without being lonely.
Oh, little yellow butterfly
to this lonely house
please come in.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A House called Lonely (A Trilogy in three parts)
There is a street in every town that owns a house
called lonely. Then when your just passing by you might
just say, 'if only.
If only could mean a life time of thoughts but it does'nt cure
a lonely house and all its faults.
Boarded up windows and tiles gone from the roof, graffiti
painted by a rebelious youth.
Such a lonely house and an oh such a tired one,
one that has lost all it's fun.
Stairs and rafters all gone to pot all that is left
is wood worm and dry rot.
No children playing in the garden, it's just a house condemend
by the council without no pardon. Poor lonely house someones
forgotton dream, now describing lifes social scene.
This lonely house stands in the way because their building
a By Pass or a new motorway.
The house called lonely could be any where, in the town, the
country or city square.
Even in your street there's a house called lonely just waiting
for you to say 'if only'
poem by Sylvia Spencer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Oh House! So Empty
Oh House! So empty.
My love was wasted.
Oh House! So empty.
No joy was tasted.
Oh House! So empty.
No children within.
Oh House! So empty.
No God just sin.
poem by Saint Eule
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Emptyness
I make my way to the house,
where you once existed,
windows are all moldy,
and the paint has diminished.
Without you there,
the house was forsaken,
no life, no soul
it just felt empty and distant.
Once upon a time,
this house held my memories,
now when I look at it,
it holds my sorrow and heartache.
I have to walk away now,
Can’t walk the path to the door,
Remembering you formerly lived here,
But you don’t no more
poem by Karissa Bristow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sitting In An Empty House
Sitting in an emtpy house
Waiting for the phone to ring
Sitting in an empty house
Wanting someone to call about anything
Sitting in an house
Just a cat for company
Sitting in an empty house
Will someone please take time for me?
Sitting in an empty house
No one knows I'm so alone
Sitting in an empty house
The pain I feel remains unknown
04/29/06
Lonely People
Written by dennis deyoung
Lead vocals by dennis deyoung
Hey , hey out there knock it off will ya?
Hey give it a rest will ya? Im tryin to get some sleep!
Want me to call the cops?
I tell ya erma I cant till next week when they start to tear that damn old theatre down.
The rain was hot, the streets were empty
As downtown closed her eyes
The movie house stood in silence as I said my last good-byes
Her silver screen was stained with memories
As cagney shot them down
And as I watched I was that hero
In dreamlands lost and found
Oh my god, well we both are empty paradise and me
Do you believe Im still chasing rainbows
When everywhere I see
Lonely people, lonely people
Up above these ghetto streets
In penthouse suites they sit and stare
Lonely people, lonely people
They smile and say theyre fine
But behind their eyes they just dont care
Lonely people
They just dont care
Lonely people, lonely people
Lonely people, lonely people
Beneath these neon streets in subway seats they crowd for air
Lonely people, lonely people
So close and yet so far they share the secrets of despair
Lonely people, lonely people (repeat and fade...)
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
An Empty House
A house that's always empty
always feels its pain.
It's hollow and it's lifeless
and knows that it's insane
to shelter not a single soul
and hear no welcome sounds
because all of its rooms are vacant
and emptiness surrounds
its space.
A house that's always empty
wears a lonely face.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Hollow Nature Of Being
WALL I:
inside an empty room lies an empty box
and in that box is a four walled inside room within-
on each of the four walls is a mirror reflecting
the deep desertion of the next
and distant within each wall is another
echoing & spiraling back into infinite repetition
with nothing or no one except the physical entities
bearing back upon each other.
WALL II:
an empty room in an empty house
the house itself has no physical attributes because it
was built in a barren field-
there are no animals, no trees,
no beings of any kind
roaming around the house whose image cannot be
imagined,
at best, know that this house in fact
“housed” the room in question,
as any house might any room.
WALL III:
such a barren field stretches to all four corners
carrying itself out beyond the periphery
curling back in on the other side,
and walking in any direction will bring one back to the
beginning-
the barren field that reveals the empty house that
encapsulates the empty room is the most integral point of
reference within the endless flat plain of grass.
WALL IV:
endless flat plains of grass flowing out in all directions covering
the circumference of the area around the empty house residing in
the middle of the plain wherein
the inside of the empty house holds the
empty room & in the
room,
the four mirrored walls reveal only the replication of the
others,
spiraling into infinite repetition-
there is no feeling
no sound
no communication of any kind
woven with the thread of human fiber.
poem by Andrew Delapruch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Old Man, Empty House
old man, empty house...
it struck me when he
left the hospital
that he didnt want
to go home to
an empty house
full of ghosts and
memories...
to die alone!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Listeners
'Is there anybody there?' said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest’s ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveller’s head:
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
'Is there anybody there?' he said.
But no one descended to the Traveller;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveller's call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
'Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote on the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:—
'Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word,' he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Sad Story
The old house stood in silence,
no one lives there anymore.
Only memories of the past,
fill each empty room.
Once you stood so proud,
laughter rang out from your walls.
Now only cobwebs and decay inherit there.
What sad story has lead to your decline?
The lights from your windows,
don’t shine there anymore.
Only ghosts from the past,
live in every room.
Ghosts that once brought laughter.
That rang out every night,
are silent and no more
What sad story marks your fall from grace?
Once upon a time,
children played outside your door.
Now only weeds and brambles,
fall across your welcome path.
No more the smiling faces,
greet everyone at your door.
Now that sadness and neglect has fell.
What sad story do you have to tell?
Were there newlyweds,
with their hopes so high?
Did they have their hopes dashed some how,
or was it some great tragedy,
that within your walls befell?
So tragic that it made the silence fall.
What made them desert you to neglect?
What was the sad story, pray tell?
6 April 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A haunted house
it stands on multiple wooden poles
and right between them a flight of stairs
that goes up straight to the back or kitchen
so that when somebody walks down you see
his feet, shins and thighs before you see the person
the house faces a huge raintree
that divides two roads
car lamps therefore shine directly onto
the poles of the house and cast shadows
that flash and lift themselves up over the
compound
the house they say is haunted
at night bus uses to stop just outside
to let passengers down
their shadows invariably running all
over the house when a car comes
in the opposite direction
everything then seems to be moving
except its unrelenting quietness
and forboding menacing atmosphere
i once was let down here
one last passenger in the dead of night
all the nooks and corners of the
abandoned house all of a sudden
became eyes that stared at me
like eager and lonely ghosts
longing for friends
my heart beat faster than my legs
could carry me
the house stood solemnly quiet
like an old, cold, lonely woman in despair
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
This House Is Empty Now (feat. Burt Bacharach)
These rooms play tricks upon you
Remember when they were always filled with laughter?
But now they're quite deserted
They seem to just echo voices raised in anger
Maybe you will see my face
Reflected there on the pane
In the window of our poor
Forlorn and broken home
Still this house is empty now
There's nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how
Am I supposed to live without you?
These walls were lined with pictures
Remember the glass we charged in celebration?
But now I fill my life up
With all that I can to deaden this sensation
Do you recognize the face
Fixed in that fine silver frame
Were you really so unhappy then?
You never said
So this house is empty now
There's nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how
Am I supposed to live without you?
Oh, if I could just become forgetful
When night seems endless
Does the extinguished candle care
About the darkness?
It's funny how my memry
Will bring you so close then make you disappear
Meanwhile all our friends must choose
Who they will favour, who they will lose
Hang the garland high or close the door
And throw away the key
This house is empty now
There's no one living here
You have to care about
This house is empty now
There's nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how
Am I supposed to live without you?
This house is empty now
There's no one living here
You have to care about
This house is empty now
There's nothing I can do
To make you want to stay
So tell me how
Am I supposed to live without you
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!