Tucked away down in the holler
Hidden by curtains of green which stood much taller
Sat a little white homestead of five
Where it seemed all they did was hide
The father, going off to work day after day
Then home to the couch he would lay
The oldest, goes off to work or to school
Then home to sit in his room
The middle, used to be the liveliest of all
But now home, his playstation will call
The youngest, finds volleyball to be fun
But then straight home she will run
The mother is quite a mystery
Because home is the last place she would like to be
Yet day after day she does so run
And with each rising sun
she doesn't recognize the person she's become
The world has become so full of evil and hostility
Maybe that is why home is where they'd rather be
I can't help but feel somehow
That a spirit is lurking in that little white house
Chained like prisoners the five seem to be
To the little white house hidden in curtains of green.
~SS
9/15/18
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Author:
SunSearcher (
Offline) - Published: September 15th, 2018 11:11
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
Offline)
Comments2
Great write.
Thanks so much for taking the time to read it!
I really enjoyed reading this. It stirred emotions as I read and left me thinking.
Kindest Regards,
A.H. Browning
Wonderful feedback, thank you so much A.H. I appreciate you reading it and the thoughtful comments.
~SS
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