The Dark House Poem by Shirley Morgan

In the eyes of a youth in fostercare
When I left it was so dark as hell.
I had turned eighteen
It was something about that house
It smelled musty
Maybe it was the orange carpet
It reminded me of the ' Brady Bunch House'
So many kids, the rooms, floors, or the stairs
All of it was so dark
I'm glad I'm out
of that dark house
I fumbled but i made it out
Today I'm a lawyer and that
dark house made it possible