Brevity.
Engulfed in flames
the Old Mansion burned to the ground.
Each and every door was left standing
Even the keys still worked.
The door opened to charred crisps under foot
Remains of such a Fine House.
Demolished within minutes
Raging flames that have soothed
to emboldened embers giving way to sacred indents
upon this borrowed land.  
The one thing that is very certain, and shall remain certain,
is that I don’t have a kid.