Anonymous18

The Old House


It's Really Cold
In This House That's Really Old
The Robbers Came And Stole
They Took Everything I Owned
And Now I'm Crying Cause I'm Broke
Can't Even Buy A Gram To Smoke
I'm Just Going To Sit Alone
In This House That's Really Cold


Kids walk by and begin to throw stones,
each one breaking windows like shattering bones.
I can hear their laughter as they walk by.
I'm alone in this house and don't understand why.
Friends used to visit, but that was before
when I had things to offer, now I'm a bore.
No one wants to hang out in this lonely place
I guess they got tired of seeing my face.


So Im Just Going To Cry
Begging God To Let Me Die
I Wanna See My Poor Soul Fly
Up, Up, And Away Into The Cold Night


A lonely wanderer enters now
Howling wind and swirling snow
Face ashen, spoot on his brow
Taking shelter from the cold
The house will do, though it is old
A vision before him unfold
Paint the walls in pastel hues
Fix the windows, see splendid views
Help the friend, for just a few.


He Buys Some Windows That Are New
He Buys A Heater For Him Too
The Lonely Guy Has No Clue Why
But He Is Grateful And Is Shy
He Was Contemplating On Ending His Life
The Once Lonely Guy
Begins To Cry
But He Does Not Know Why
He Takes A Deep Sigh
Walks To The Heater And Says
"Mine"



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.