Just Needs A Little TLC

Beneath the heartwood pine, where dust settles; building shelter between endless spaces.

Cordially inviting strands of sunbeams for slow dances; while strong breezes make their passes. Recumbent skeleton keys and copper pennies reside; on shards departed from broken glass. Scuff marks and shuffling shoes interrogate weakened floor boards. Under heavy pressure, crying out in defeat; revealing secrets it swore itself to keep. Paint-chipped doors, once sturdy barriers, that alienated the outside world; now piled upon porch steps. Long since unhinged from their frames. Humidity rises; as the damp air gets heated within. Orphaned, lacking proper attention; dressed in emerald ivy. This old house that impatiently awaits, longing to be explored; seduces its visitor while drawing out a whisper, "Please, don't leave me here alone. Won't you come along and make me feel like home again?"