The wretched place

This was also for school, we had to describe a picture of a barn in the saddest way possible

 

At first glance no one would suspect,

A rotting barn in the middle of nowhere

But curiosity won’t reject,

The chance to get another glare

 

On the hillsides of Salem, long abandoned,

Lies this structure barley standing

Desolate for decades, few drops have landed

To aid the grass, now brown and stranded

 

The air surrounding the retched place,

Reeks of rotting hay

The odor of damp wool lingers without a trace,

Leaving a perfume of decay

For centuries the grass; that used to shine like blades

Have cowered lower to the ground

As their color fades,

The barn, they continue to surround.

The trees that mimic men at prayer

Lacking the very source,

That hardens them within their layers,

Leaving them to bow before some unseen force

 

The porch that once supported the weight

Of several children at play,

Now whines, in protest and in hate

For the fate it undergoes each day.

The roof; once a handsome shade of burgundy

Now lies awkwardly above the porch

Suffering for eternity,

Its wood so rough from a past scorch.

 

As far away as one gets from this place

With sinister images and troubled thoughts

That not a thing could ever erase

Once they are in they cannot be fought.

 

Time and again the thoughts will come

Followed by an eerie hum

With callous images your mind will become

Completely enthralled until you succumb…

I got a 100 on it so YAY! i love writing depressing shit, even though i dont get "depressed"..

xxNora