The Vanishing Home

Alas to the child who suffer at home A place made without windows, made without stone Where clay and mud soak the feet, slowing them down A home that was not given from above Cry for the teen who suffer alone In an abode of shattered glass, shaped as s dome Where echoes vibrate, no escape to be found A house of walls being mashed by he sea Weep for the adult who suffer in the cold A dwelling without foundation, no walls or sound Of place of smashed grapes soaking into the ground Where wind and cold are all that be found The greatest sorrow to those who suffer in the sea With residences gone with the passage of time Trampled by elephants, forever forgotten and done Homes vanishing deep into the sun, always left being unsung