Little Tree House

There was once a little tree house.
It was made out of wood,
nothing special.
It was painted with care,
with love.
It was a refuge.
a refuge from worries,
stress, pain.
The blue tinted windows,
so peaceful, were decorated with butterfly paintings.
The tree house, watched the children play in it,
jump of the ledge, swing on the tire.
But slowly as the years passed,
the little tree house was forgotten,
no more children played in it.
But,
occasionally,
a teenage boy and girl would come up
and watch the stars
from the roof of the little treehouse.