Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Time passes...
While sitting on the steps
Waiting for the water company
To come and turn off the water.
My old home.
The one I grew up in...
Mom and Dads place,
Then my sons place.
Now sold..
Everything removed
But the memories...
Hard to turn off the tears.
I look at the iron railing
My dad made,
With marks pounded in it .
A curled end, with little rings
Between every other rail.
At Christmas I would tip toe down
And peek through the rails
To see if Santa arrived yet.
Dad made a bar in the basement.
On the front of it still
Are My initials JK
He cut them out for me.
I can't remove them now,
Because he used wood glue
To fasten them to the bar.
There is a shelf to devide
The dining room and front room.
Growing up we had a large fish bowl
On two of the shelves.
Angel fish,
And guppies...
Now shelves are bare.
A lot of stories to be told,
Created in this old house.
Giving me a lot of great memories.
Leaving this house
Is like leaving my mom and dad
Behind...
But I know they are
With me in my heart.
Thanks mom and dad
For giving me a great childhood.
Life changes,
As does the place to live...
Good bye
To my childhood home..
 Jul 2014 Antoinette Arnuld
thrcy
I keep writing about you
A lot of people say that my poetry is amazing and I have no idea why they say that
And I think it's because they're all about you, because you're ******* wonderful
But what you don't know and what they have no idea is that
I stare at the ceiling for hours
And my hands can't seem to move
Leaving my pen untouched and just having a blank page
Filled with no words about you or about love
Because all I feel is frustration and disappointment
Maybe I write these things but it actually doesn't come close to how I'm really feeling
But if actions could be expressed into words
I would write about how I should have hugged you for hours and convinced you to stay
How your favourite song just came up the radio, reminding me the first you made me listen to it
I would write about me standing outside the rain near the bus stop, thinking and replaying all the things you said to me, as I hide my tears from the rain
Then I realized I never had you
We were never official
I would write about the burning fire from my heart as it start to burn because of how much I miss you
and how the burning flakes have reached my brain at 3 in the morning thinking about how I miss your voice and how I crave your presence
And then I remember being up so late was only that much fun when you were still around, with our deep talks & late phone calls
I wish every ******* day that you were still here
And I don't know how to end this writing because there is no poetic way to say and describe how I feel so empty and that I just want you back
But what I know is that I'll never let go

— The End —