The Real Cost of Rent
First poem I’ve written. I really like this draft I have but would love some feedback.
The True Cost of Rent
Welcome home!
This quaint 3 bedroom 2 bath house has everything a growing family will ever need
Built in 1995 this home has stood proud for 30 years
The kitchen has been updated floors refinished and a fresh coat of paint on these walls
The roof only leaks when it rains hard enough.
Visitors never really notice
It’s not like I let them in anyway
Besides, everyone loves curb appeal… right?
The neighbors always compliment how put together the house is.
Funny enough… all my screws and nails are holding up their walls.
I could tell you every square inch of their homes—
what needs fixing,
what’s beginning to bend,
what should last another few years.
Meanwhile…
there are rooms in my own house I haven’t opened in years.
They’ve been wrapped in caution tape for so long
I can’t remember what’s behind the doors anymore.
But, what they see can’t hurt you… right?
The roof leak opened a few storms ago
The water damage has made its way to the joists.
Some have rotted away some have sagged under the weight.
Nothing a fresh coat of paint can’t cover.
Funny how wood can rot from the inside while the paint still looks pristine
It’s how it looks from the outside that counts… right?
The inspector warned me about the mold a long time ago. I just kept repainting hoping to avoid the code violation.
Didn’t help got violated anyway. That’s when I stopped letting outsiders in.
They only ever saw the mold
But, never asked where the water came from
At least it’s inviting from outside… right?
Now here we are.
Standing in the living room,
holding the load-bearing wall up with my own hands,
dodging pieces of the ceiling as they fall.
CONDEMNED
stamped across the front door in bold red letters.
I’ve lived with the damage for so long
I don’t even notice it anymore.
I’m not sure if everyone else has stopped noticing too…
or if they never looked beyond the front porch.
Now pieces of the house fall into the yard.
Even the neighbors can see them.
If no one says anything…
it can’t really be that bad…
Right?
The true cost of rent was never money.
It was every nail borrowed from a load-bearing wall.
Every bucket left beneath another leak.
Every room sealed off instead of repaired.
Every fresh coat of paint over rotten wood.
Some damage can’t be painted over.
It can only be repaired when the carpenter is willing to tear it down and rebuild.
Maybe I’ll remember that if I ever rebuild. Maybe I’ll make the same mistakes again.
I’ve spent years keeping everyone else’s houses standing.
Maybe it’s finally time to become my own carpenter.
Maybe it’s time to unlock those doors again
Maybe someone out there is still willing to visit
… right?
Welcome home