THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED

THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED I pushed I pulled on the torn screen door The door was open So I stepped inside And what I saw next Stopped me in my tracks A family once lived And breathed in here The child’s nursery They left in a hurry An old naked doll With head dismembered A crib left there With a mattress stripped bare A striped-awning tribute With circles stained piss A chalkboard drawing Where a child once laughed The master bedroom Strewn with clothes and cigarette butts An old telephone plug-in and cable jacks This is the place where they once made love But now they are sleeping in the back of their cars The kitchen there, still smelled of cooking And it once provided nourishment For four hungry children The living room no longer Just the desolate sound Of the wind blowing through And syringes on the ground And there on a shelf A smashed screen TV A reminder how fast fiction Can become your reality This house was once filled With laughter and love A hustle and bustle filled busy enclave Now just a shell of it’s former self It’s haunted forever by one family’s hell! WordPlaya, August 2009