it is a house, but its not a home

It is a house
but its not a home

how could it be
when they're rarely home

and even when they are
Theres no difference
just stone figures
lack of emotions

it is a house
but its not a home

where laughter are scarce
filled with occupied silence
they're with the laptops
u're with the phones
We're seating side by side
but no communication

it used to be a house
and also a home

where the father played and joked around with the children
The mother smiled satisfiedly of her achievement with the goods hot from the oven
The children laughed giddily and thought 'God, this must be heaven!'

if I could
I would
I would turn back time
make it frozen
that moments of happiness
too fleeting, too short, too priceless
but it moves like a current
that will keep moving and moving
away and away out of reach
like a forever gone companion