My House
The biggest you’ll ever see,
It’s so big, you might need
A map to find me.
It’s airy, my big house
‘Cross ventilation’ they say.
If all windows are open,
I’ll get blown away.
And light streams in
From really big windows.
Floors are polished clean,
So no spots, no shadows.
One large leather sofa
That smells of old money,
And a really big tv,
Keep me company.
With fencing on one side,
The sea on the other three,
I have no need for visitors,
They have no need for me.
A little blue bird stopped
To check me out one day,
‘Who and what keeps you in’
Cocked its head to say.
Not waiting for answers,
I wasn’t ready to give anyway.
I wondered about the question
Long after it flew away.
I’m a little scared of crowds
Not ready to face the sun.
But now the sofa offers no rest,
The tv no distraction.
My really big house
Is empty, I’m alone in it,
I’ll send you a map
If you promise to come visit.
Labels: poetry
5 Comments:
Ouch! That hurt physically.
Lur-cur
Ouch! That hurt physically.
This was a really sad poem. I like it though. It was reminiscent of Simon & Garfunkel's - I am a Rock!
I saw the top post by Manisha Lakhe. Started reading
the next - and was thinking - wow - - great going -
who's this - and it turns out to be the same old you!!
What you need to do also is to write some bad stuff sometimes....
Good but sad and i love the cause you need to cry sometimes.
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