There’s a place

There’s a place
where lost flowers grow,
in spite of no care.

An old dilapidated house
is half torn down
and litter lies everywhere,
like on an old rubbish dump.

Purple irises and blue-violet lilies
burst through the weeds
and I wonder what tale,
the old house could tell.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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