My 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

Because It's Made Out Of Real Stone 

But I'm Trying To Be Bold 

Everything Valuable I Have Sold

And Im Looking At This Mold 

It Can't Get Fixed Because I'm Broke

When I Woke Up 

Life Said "This Is What I Behold"

So I Cried While I Was Alone

Asking Why I'm Not Sitting On A Throne

And Sucking On Chicken Bones 

But It's Okay That I'm Alone 

I Think I Might Just Say 

"So Long"

And End My Life I Will Be Gone.




  • Author: Anonymous18 (Offline Offline)
  • Published: August 1st, 2017 17:20
  • Comment from author about the poem: This Is Just Something I Came Up With At Random, It Is Not About Me.
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 27
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  • FredPeyer

    Interesting poem, well written, showing how it feels to reach bottom. But at least there is an alternative to "so long", it is the fact that the only direction left is up.

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