Haunted Poem by Sarah Liz Bowman
Haunted
No light shines through the cracked old windows. The stairs are warpped and broken. The door hangs nearly off the hinges. Spiderwebs and dust cover the walls. If you listen you can hear distant voices in the dark. Is it an imprint of the past? The house is cold and dark but somehow you never feel alone.
(2010)
Monday, February 2, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: old memory
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4/30/2024 3:00:57 AM # 1.0.0.1119
