Renovations

I know.

You brought me here,
  just to tear it all down.

You thought I was a tool,
  a simple tool of destruction.

Just clear it away,
  and start over.

No.

I can't do that.
It's not me.

Let me show you.

Look at the foundation.
Beat and starting to show the ages of time.
Still strong though,
  little care and attention,
  good as new.

Walls have stains and gouges,
  proper touch,
  look like when you first moved in.

Now the furnace,
  been running on low fuel for awhile,
  so it seems.

Filter out the impurities,
  flush out the lines,
  freshen the oil.

I'm telling you,
  no need to tear it down.

It's a beauty.

Reviews

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~ wow, this poem is a beauty... absolutely stunning work, monsieur jon...

~ i'm in absolute awe of the way you write... and what you say...