There sits an old empty table in a lonely house
Once occupied by joyous children and proud parents
Now the only noise that made itself heard was the creaking as the house shifted
No one to play there music so loud that the neighbors would bang on the door
No one to swing open the door and call out “I’m home! What’s for dinner?”
No one to fix the creaky stairs and broken window screen
No one
There sits a lonely house in an abandoned neighborhood
Once occupied by families and pets of all sorts
Now the birds in the trees don’t know who to sing to or what to sing about
No one to play hopscotch in the streets
No one to stand outside washing their bright red minivan while soaking up the sun
No one to call when you’re all out of sugar or eggs
No one
There sits a now grown up girl
Once occupied with memories of hopscotch and dinners with her family
Now she just remember what used to be and wonders if was ever what she thought
No one to remind her that those memories are real, full of the happiness she was consumed in
No one to tell her that her dreams are still worth achieving
No one to pull her from the hole that she has dug herself
No one
YOU ARE READING
Pretentious Poems
PoetryA poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language -W.H Auden
