My family is an old house:
Dad is the broken step, constantly falling and unable to hold anyone up.
Mom is the broken door, always creaking and hard to open.
My sister is the leaking roof, always dropping water, but staying up high.
My brother is the dark rooms, hard to see into and quiet.
And I am the dreary outside look of the house. Always looking for someone to move in, but holding all the secrets inside.
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Author:
Katielynn (
Offline) - Published: June 25th, 2018 22:37
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this in 8th grade and I'm in college now. To me this was more than a school assignment. This poem is how I found out I was good at writing poems. So I wanted to share the first poem I ever wrote with other people. This is also how I really see myself and my family.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 8
Offline)
Comments1
It's simple but I love the comparisons.
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