Welcome to this house, welcome one and all,
Don’t get too comfortable, you will have to stand in the hall,
This is the home of the old men who are waiting for the call.
The old women are sitting sharing cups of tea.
The children are a little scared of what they might see.
The young men are outraged but cannot flee.
The girls are crying, heartbroken and disappointed,
The priests are comforting those anointed,
And the pregnant ladies are suffering and disjointed.
Welcome children, let me read you a story,
You have come to the path of glory,
But don’t stair at the injured they may be a little gory.
So sit down and share tales of your fears,
Have a joke and sing a song to while away the years,
For you have wandered into the house of tears.
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Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline)
- Published: February 13th, 2023 03:03
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
Comments3
The poem is neat, but I want to be like great grandad, at home,in my sleep.
thanks for sharing, dear poet
your insightful words express
in detail
why, I refer to myself as a cynic..
(to contemplate
existence's spasmodic nature
untethered to reason or empathy
a callous, capricious
witnessing
of seemingly haphazard, life
'whatever that is'
then going to sleep, to dream
of our idyllic naivety's
exemplifies, just how removed
we have to be, from reality
to survive
and witness one more, majestic
dawning
of hope...)
Thanks for reading
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