The Old House at the End of the Road

If it’s possible to love a house like a person, Then the Lord knows I love this old house. It’s a place that reminds me of family, And the things in life that really mean the most. It’s a place I return to when I’m lonely. . . . . . Or it seems I’ve lost my way. A place where I always feel welcome, As I sit down and think for a while. This old house is more than boards and nails Because it tells me of our past . . . As I walk through it, I’m reminded that The special people in our lives never last. Although they’re gone, I will remember How they still live on inside of me. Because this old house reminds me of who I am, And everything I ever want to be . . .

The Old House . . . at the end of the road.

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