i build a house
no one likes it.

the house is empty
i put some chairs.

someone comes and
says, this house is

lonely, it needs
a sound

it is boring and needs
a paint

i put a tree beside
its stairs

i grow another
fence

i put a lone bulb
on a post

and leave the house
for good

that is what the
house is made

there is always
missing

something is
always wrong


this is the house
of regret

it is the monument
of all our wrongs.

RIC S. BASTASA

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-monument-of-all-our-wrongs/