The quiet sounds of desperation
does swirl in simple perfect homes.
A small note taped to spotless doors,
to imply let me in this time.
The storage room of forgotten things
contains happy memories long lost.
The light is always on in here,
to show the image of a home.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For Fun
PoetryPoetry I write for myself. Comment for feedback. I will take criticism even if it harsh.
