I looked out on my sad suburban street,
The temperatures were at their highest.
No one was moving there was a stillness.
It was even too hot for any gossip to surface.
Opposite my place is Mrs Boogaloo
She undresses by the open window.
I try not to look but can’t help myself.
Next door to her is Mr Sever.
They say he killed his wife.
No-one has seen her for weeks.
Someone even called the Police.
They say the police found a knife with blood on it,
That’s what they say.
Next door on the other side is Mr Sack.
He's 90 years old and they say he used to be a Pedophile.
I don’t know how he stopped but,
people let their kids say hello.
Although they avoid his house at Halloween.
I went away from my window thinking nothing ever
happens in my street.
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Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: February 18th, 2026 02:06
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 39
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Paul Bell, Efrain Cajar
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Comments4
This poem is too human to not get a fave. It capitalizes on the frailty we all have of judgement, curiosity, spreading rumors and pretending that it is all normal and fine. Well done David
Thank you so much. You are right humans are complex.Thanks for your kind words
You are most welcome David
What DOES go on behind some closed doors?!
Don't ask me.I just say it like it was told to me
No one knows what goes on behind closed doors.
But when gossip starts, we all know where it goes.
Which reminds me, when I was a kid, the woman next door was definitely poisoned, and we discussed what poison it was. for ages.
In that case the poison was "gossip".Thanks for commenting
imagination runs riot when we do not know what lies at the other side actually, and pass hasty judgement...
Yes indeed you never know whats going on next door.Thanks for commenting
true - so let's be careful before judging anybody...
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