The morning did come, with sweep of broom,
Take out the trash, clean up the room.
Fresh paint on frames, glass so very clean,
This house the finest, you have ever seen.
The grass was mowed, the plants did grow,
All walls were painted, just right you know.
The small boundary hedge, with a small gate,
To the people there, this house was great.
Mornings come and go, no sign of brush,
Rubbish has built up, no longer a rush.
The frames are gone, the glass no more,
No longer a home, your glad you saw.
The grass so high, the weeds do live,
Walls are all broken, the roof does give.
No boundary any more, the gate long gone,
People did leave here, but have moved on.