She walks on shards a silent tread
Across the floors, so cold and bare
A web of fear inside her head
A heavy weight she has to bear
His anger a dark, swirling cloud
Hangs low, a threat she can't ignore
Her voice a whisper, never loud
Afraid to open the door
Each step she takes a cautious plea
To not disturb the fragile peace
A yearning for tranquility
A silent wish for sweet release
The glass surrounds a brittle cage
Revealing sorrow in her eyes
She fears turning a page
Breathe the weight of the silent skies
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Author:
Twilight (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: June 13th, 2025 15:45
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem means a lot to me. I wrote this poem to express myself. Not every life is perfect, and not every household is made of brick and stone.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Comments3
Fear in a home makes it less than a home. Here I hear the fear. Nicely written
A very relatable write to so many, living within the confines of a broken home, a sad write with fear in the words, nicely expressed
In fact, no life or household is perfect. Very insightful and powerful poem on the horror of fear in a household. So many, too many, are filled with that fear to varying levels. Well done. 🌹👏 A fave.
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