The haunted watcher

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: House of Ghosts

The Haunted Watcher


There back he squealed and raced towards the door,

But as he ran he could not feel his feet upon the floor,

He stood just at the front door and waited for the key

But no one turned it in the lock no one came to see

He ran down the hallway and looked through the window

There she was just walking past looking at his house

Making notes in a small brown paper book 


He placed his hand upon the glass no longer making a mark

He called hello but unfortunately, no sound came out 

She turned around a tear in her eye he watched her almost  cry


You see this was her Uncle's house who was killed during the war

That little boy who watched her now was the only one left there

His mother had left just for the milk  Just left him for a second

But the army man had shot her first and the child just by mistake.


His mother stayed here for a while but something stronger called her home

Now he walks the halls alone; he is the only one there now.

He rarely now has visitors no one calls to see

He watched her disappear through the gate and heard an engine roar


He knew no one else would ever call they never had returned

But who would buy a haunted house, haunted by a child 

The blood-stained steps could still be seen or so the locals told

The candles flickered in the dark shots can still be heard 


He slowly walked back down the hall and glided up the stairs 

He lay himself upon the floor and wanted so much to cry

But Ghosts can not release their tears until they reach the skies.


Submitted: January 30, 2021

© Copyright 2021 christine sinnott. All rights reserved.

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Wow. This was a very emotional piece of poetry, haunting in its content and very well composed.

Sun, January 31st, 2021 6:31pm

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