This House

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A unspoken poison that grows in most homes.

Submitted: April 19, 2007

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Submitted: April 19, 2007

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A A A


I need " You"


but


left with


"Stressed You"


from


bills, your job


the kid's spills, locked door knobs


this routine we share


no love grows there


distance grows


from thoughts said


by the time you give me flowers


their all dead


I ask for " quality time"


you yell "Fine!"


you asked me what we can do


waiting for me to give you a clue


I just want a little of your time


that I can call mine


to close the gap thats been made


asking for help, your killing us both a little each day.




© Copyright 2018 Wille N Small. All rights reserved.

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