Memories of ashes

Would Any1 thought that this was once called a house. My home. I missed it alot, so I drop by. Too much memories of a family. A family that once were respected by whole, for the struggle they had gone through to survive. Now, lookin at whats left of this old, ruined shack, I ponder, where did it go wrong? Where is that respect that my ancestors deserves? Why is no1 doing nothin to protect this shack? This shack should had been the only proof that my late grandparents were once rich with love and happiness. I couldn't stop my tears falling, as I turn around to the bus stop. It hurts to leave it like this. Wrecked. Just as what the villagers did to the memories of my grandparents honor. Abandoned, uncared, and perhaps, forgotten.