Tattered and torn

When I see these beauties from the past.  It reminds me of places from my childhood.   I remember, going up the hollers and visiting family that lived in homes, built like many that I photograph.  There were a lot of good memories in these homes.  Likewise, I am sure most of the ones I take pics of, had great memories too.
All homes have a past.  Had families, that loved them and took care of them.  Seeing them left to perish is so sad.  This is my tribute to their memory.

I am tattered and torn, aged and grey.
I have hung from this window, day-to-day.
Sheltered this home from the light of day.
only to be left to hang here, in disarray.
People have come, people have gone.
I have been here, for many a dawn.
You look at me, like what is wrong?
Why so weak, no longer strong?
I hang here all tattered and torn,
Waiting for the family, for whom I mourn. ©Tammy Sullivan  2015