Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
There was a house: Allen Avenue, 04103 As far as I can remember It wasn't ever a home. It stood empty and decayed along the busy road: A reminder in white peeling paint and single-pane windows of what the neighborhood was. All through my childhood it remained, and decayed, and observed. And the summer I came home, freshman year of college done, so was the house. So was the home of my childhood.
0
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 11:04 PM UTC
The Home of My Childhood
There was a house: Allen Avenue, 04103 As far as I can remember It wasn't ever a home. It stood empty and decayed along the busy road: A reminder in white peeling paint and single-pane windows of what the neighborhood was. All through my childhood it remained, and decayed, and observed. And the summer I came home, freshman year of college done, so was the house. So was the home of my childhood.
Inspired by Lucan's "To the House on Winter Street"
a
Written by
American
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 11:04 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem