Knotted hearts are broken; evicted, convicted, and awaiting collection.
I shout as you pass, but you can’t hear. The stories I could tell.
Sal’s jiving heels left their mark as her elevated dance floor. You’ve been far kinder since, when clambering aboard to battle spiders and tinsel from the ceiling.
Trevor’s scholarly ink mess mishaps are nearly forgotten now he’s a proper big wig at The Bar; and I’ve become very partial to the odd tipple tipping over me. Mine’s a red thank you, given the choice.
Loved those card games when all money including Monopoly was paper. Then more all-nighters beneath that humming sewing machine because the school show and Kate’s costumes still had to go on.
Bike repair bench, prime smart office space, and the safest place for granny’s 10,000 piece puzzle.
Secrets told and revealed; tears and laughter; part of the family. I was your hearth’s heart at your lives’ core.
You sometimes even sat round and ate food from me.
New Year sales are my end of days.
Here comes the lorry to take me away.