Once there was a crooked house
Wherein stirred no man or mouse
Only dogs of black and white
Cats of grey, no birds of flight
The inside was just monochrome
Soothing the beasts who called it home
The outside bore the test of time
Yet somehow still majestic in it’s prime
(57 words)
This photo made me think of the limerick about the crooked house, so I came up with a fitting poem instead. Thanks for the fun prompt, Sue!
Normalising the conversation about Grief.
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