Scott Whitby, 2020
We'd sneak through the woods
Apprehensive and alarmed
Afraid to get caught
Visiting that house so charmed
It didn't seem so old
But all the people were gone
There was food in the cabinets
But no one knew for how long
The old people never said
Anything about the Perrys
Said they might be
Buried in one of the cemeteries
They must have been somebody
That we would all trust
A house like that
Nothing like any of us
Two stories tall and an attac
Wallpaper and hardwood floors
Big rooms, electric lights, stairs
Fancy windows and solid doors
When they were there
Were there alot of kids?
Was there supper every night
Like my family did?
Did they get up and go to work
When the kids were off to school
And go to the grocery store
Like all the other people do?
Or wait for breakfast in bed?
Were all their needs met?
Did they have a butler and staff
Who got them all they could get?
Or did an old couple
Just build a big home
Who took care of their money
Retired with no need to roam
I think they were lonely
I might be wrong
I don't think they had friends
Not the kind in a song
It's no wonder they left
I think they were sad
Buried or built another home
I hope they found how to be glad
But they left alot for us to wonder
Fifty years later I still don't know
Who they were, where they went
Or even if there were kids to grow
I'd like to talk to them
I'd like to share a meal
Learn who they were
Tell them how I feel
And tell them how it felt
And how now I feel shame
Snooping through their home
Knowing nothing but their name
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