I had a brother
Six years my junior
Who kept on asking
Why I liked
Ev'ry closet door closed
And I simply could not
Tell him straight
That the skeletons
Might come and haunt.
But my mother
Who thought she knew
Who her daughter was
Yanked it free
That skeletons
Trampled over her
And where I don't
Kiss and tell
She ran and screamed.
It was my father soon
Who spoke to me
Yet what he did
Was far from speaking
What he did
With tongue so sharp
Was call me off
And that made the skeletons
Rejoice and multiply.
Well then I guess
It's safe to say
The skeletons in my closet
Were too much
For me to hide.
YOU ARE READING
Poem Collection
PoetryHope you'll be able to give this a chance. Basically just scribbled words on a scrap piece of paper which are just lame excuses for poems I write whenever I'm bored, down, or just... yeah... that I want to share with you guys. Enjoy reading my mind...
