Poem Number Thirtysix.
House Of Dreams
I stopped in front of the house again,
I fell it’s chill go up my spine again,
The house has demons all of it’s own,
Ghosts of the past, rattle the bone,
I lived there once, but never a memory comes,
Fleeting visions that disappear like dream drums,
Were they good times or bad,
I’ll never know, it makes me very sad,
Sadness if forever in my heart,
I know my family loves me, thou my dad is very tart,
They never understood my dreams are hunted,
As my eyes become like a demon hunted.
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!