Haunted House
It echoes its aching stairs;
its doors gone stiff at the hinges,
reminds us of its owners;
who grew old, who died,
but who are still here,
leaning in the closet like that curtain rod,
sleeping on the cellar shelf like this empty jelly jar.
~Haunted House
its doors gone stiff at the hinges,
reminds us of its owners;
who grew old, who died,
but who are still here,
leaning in the closet like that curtain rod,
sleeping on the cellar shelf like this empty jelly jar.
~Haunted House
♠ ♠ ♠
This is to you, Courtney.Just a frickin' brill poem one of my best friends wrote.
This is, like I said, frickin' brill doll-face.