Every building tells a story

Every building tells a story
You only have to look
Be it a dilapidated shack
By a babbling brook

Be it a red brick built factory
Surrounded by a wall
With chimneys reaching to the sky
Hundreds of feet tall

Could be a Victorian mansion
Or an Edwardian school
Where the cane was often used
As a dominating tool

Buckingham Palace
A majestic hotel
A freemasons meeting place
They all have tales to tell

A myriad of people
The long the tall the short
The poor and the moneyed
Buildings housed every sort

Some fighting for their survival
From plague and famine
Children who in the blink of an eye
Were changed into gamin

Houses with broken windows
Losing precious heat
Condensation running down the walls
They were conditioned to defeat

While others in their finery
Toddled off to a stately ball
Not knowing how, the other half lived
Having no comprehension at all

Laughing and dancing
Eating and drinking their fill
They in the peak of condition
While others lay desperately ill

I can feel their spirits
Feel the laughter and the tears
The good times and the bad times
Their hopes and their fears

They're in the Liver building
Down at Lime Street Station
Even in St George's Hall
And the Cathedrals congregation

If I can feel the history
I'm sure you could as well
They're part of the buildings
They all have tales to tell

The walls absorbed their energies
It hangs in the air
You could feel their presence
The ambience is everywhere

The schoolmaster in his classroom
The workers from a mill
The priest in his pulpit
Their spirits are there still

By Eileen Powell