The Ruined House (The State of Trust)

By Andrew R. Duckworth

The door is off the hinges,
Lying in a dirty floor
Of a dirty vacant house.
No one knows how the door fell,
Whether the hinges rusted,
Under weather then busted,
Or if vandals engaged
In their idea of fun.
Perhaps the owners fled
Before the roof caved
Upon their heads.
No known record
Of their flight exists
Or is spoken of in stories.