A Broken House

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Anything and Everything
This is a simple poem about a house I used to live in on the countyside. It's a bit long, but it's worth the read.

Submitted: March 06, 2017

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Submitted: March 06, 2017

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A broken house.
How could it look so innocent?
But be so sad.

It has white paint,
That's slowly peeling off.
It has a big yard, 
For children to play in,
But I don't see them.
Where did they go.

It has a dirt driveway,
And a garage door, 
Almost always closed,
But it's not like it was used much
Anyway.

The door in the garage 
has stairs to it that
Creeks with age.
Guess it was never fixed.
The doorknob was always
 cold to the touch.

Inside, 
there usually are a line of shoes,
But now there isn't a single pair.
Looks like everyone is out today.
the stove lit up the house with warmth 
In the winter.
Too bad no one's here to light it.

The living room is empty.
The tv is turned off.
The bookshelves collect dust.
No one.
Alone.

The saddest part of all.
There is a table
That sits six people.
There is one chair that 
No one uses anymore,
Because it is broken.
That chair at the head of the table,
With no father sitting in it.


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