Dark Poetry #4 |
MEMORIES BEST FORGOTTEN |
Seeker72 Member
since 2007-02-24
Posts 387Oregon USA |
MEMORIES BEST FORGOTTEN Dried milk on the counter yellow and flaking The kitchen sink was a dark brown but I am sure it wasn’t brought that way. Surrounded by dark walls that if they could speak would probably only scream. Dirty floors covered in grease and years of grime. Newspapers stacked almost from floor to ceiling. If you were to pull out the one on the very bottom I am sure It would say in bold letters “THE WAR IS OVER!” They stand like a royal guard at the base of the stairs. Those stairs. So dreary So cold No light would ever escape down them. You could put searchlights on every step and you still couldn’t see A damn thing So steep it was like climbing a ladder covered in dirty carpet. The bathroom was no better it was always cold. Not just cold. No This was a bone chilling cold. If you were to turn around to quickly you could always see something run and Hide in the darkness that surrounded its walls. Their safe haven It had a big window with fogged glass. You know the kind. Standing preparing to slip into a hot bath when suddenly a distorted face appears Watching your every move. It never happened but the thought was always there. The wall outside was so close it gave nothing in the way of light. Just how the house liked it. You cannot reveal a secret If it is not seen The living room had what looked like 1930s wallpaper. Nicotine stained and peeling. Its carpet had a well-trodden path from too many years of use. Those dark stairs Where did they lead? They led to 2 small rooms as dark, dirty and cold as the rest of the house. My room was at the back to where it seemed the sun never shone. So my view was that of the other houses so close it made you feel claustrophobic So dark if you stared at them to long you wanted to kill yourself. My view also gave me the roof of the bathroom And the garden (if you could call it that) A cement block with a door leading to the maze Of alleyways filled with rubbish and dog sh*t Of discarded mattresses and lost lives. The history of this house is mostly unknown And of what is known is too sad to tell. |
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© Copyright 2007 Christopher Duncan - All Rights Reserved | |||
hunnie_girl
since 2006-06-18
Posts 2567Canada |
something about your poems, really hold me in...... down to the last sentence. very chilling great write hunnie. ~fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me~ |
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BrittanyJ Member
since 2007-06-03
Posts 461Come find me? |
wow, i started reading this and i couldn't stop until it ended.It had chills running up my spine...this is wonderful So no more hiding all your pain, you deserve a new start. That's why i'm closing myself away, this is a message from your heart. |
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Seeker72 Member
since 2007-02-24
Posts 387Oregon USA |
Thank you both very much. |
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