The house

Jack built it with his bare hands.

It was shared with the feelings in and out.

Areas around it changed blossoming, burning.

Things were built highways breaking in an art.

It was used by John in a manner it was not used to.

Rebuild by the loving hands of a new pair.

Life view was a strange one indeed.

With time it grew fearful from the uneventful.

Changes were imperative and so it got used to it all.

With no thought of it own he inspired others.

Making changes by himself.

Slowly a wind picked up.

In a whirl of a second everything changed.

A light brighter than a million suns came on him.

 Dazzling him. With the start of emotion the delirium was over.

And he… Jack was buried forever, while it looked at it all in dismay.


Remark: I think this is one of the most complex poems I have ever written. Its beginning is based on a song by Metallica called the house that jack built. 


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