Not everything in the Manor is as it seems...

The Manor

I woke up and received my meal
From stoic maids, funereal and grim. 
A butler met me at the door,
And I passed off my coat to him. 
The Mirror held its former sights, 
A little child with ruffled hair
Who looks at me with eyes my own
And keeps me rooted with his stare. 

The strangest things have happened here;
This manor isn't what it seems-
A darkened place in disrepair,
Alive with former lives and dreams.
I've never had a butler yet,
And maids are just beyond my cheque;
The mirrored child is not my own,
But one who fell and broke his neck.

 

 


Submitted: March 22, 2019

© Copyright 2022 Bridget Kennedy. All rights reserved.

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Comments

hullabaloo22

Gloriously Gothic, Bridget. A lot of story in this poem.

Fri, March 22nd, 2019 8:08pm

Mike Roberts

Very good, with a surprise ending. I wish I was half the poet you are.

Sat, March 23rd, 2019 4:27am

Robert Helliger

A great gothic horror poem, reminiscent of Edgar Allan Poe.

Tue, May 14th, 2019 6:06am

Robert Helliger

A great gothic horror poem, reminiscent of Edgar Allan Poe.

Tue, May 14th, 2019 6:06am

Robert Helliger

A great gothic horror poem, reminiscent of Edgar Allan Poe.

Tue, May 14th, 2019 6:06am

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