"Poor Mr. Drear, he's stuck in his house again.
I can see letters spilling out of his window.
The house... It's silent..."
"Until it all comes crashing down,
From that vacant porch to the cluttered attic. It might as well all be a basement."
"I heard he's still got those framed photos... Just hanging there."
"Hush! The door is opening!"
"Who are they?"
"Oh dear God!"
"Poor sod had it coming..."
"He's still wearing a suit, must have loved it more than his kids and wife."
"Hell, he must have loved it more than his own life."
YOU ARE READING
Misster Normal (A Poetry Collection)
PoetryEveryone's different. But everyone has the same standards to be normal. So... what is exactly being 'normal'? Please note that every persona is different to represent everyone (although some may share things in common). Credits to the artist for the...
