My poems

The Old House and the Ghosts (free style)

 

As my grandma and I walk onto the old house's porch,
I hear a caw of a crow,
The whistling of the wind in the trees,
The groan from the planks of the porch,
Every sound I hear sounds unusually louder than normal.

My grandma opens the old paint peeling door,
It gives a loud screech as it is opened,
I shudder,
The gloomy darkness awaits us,
my grandma forges ahead,
I hurriedly walk after my grandma.

The paintings on the wall greet us,
The floorboards creak loudly as I walk up the stairs,
We walk in the long dark halls of the old house.

Suddenly we hear a baby crying,
We walk to the room where the baby can be heard.

As we walk in we see a woman in a cowl holding the baby,
The woman turns to look at us,
I scream in horror at the woman.

Her face was gruesome but beautiful,
It was nothing more than a skull at one moment then the next moment it's a beautiful young woman.

I look at the baby,
It was just like the woman,
Fading in and out of focus.

Suddenly I started crying,
Not from fear nor from hatred,
I cried for the woman and the baby in sorrow,
I felt the pain of the woman,
Her face suddenly came into focus,
I heard her voice,
She was speaking a language I didn't understand,
She was smiling gently, yet she was crying.