Thursday, 12 April 2012

Something is not right

I call to the door
No one is there
I look to the window
I think I saw someone stare
As I bend down to pick up my key
A shadow it passes right by me

This should upset me
But i am not moved
I am more interested now
Have more to prove
As I walk around the broken down house

With wood chipped slats around it
The smell of old mould
The place not sold
I wonder who lived here before
I walk up to open the door

As I push it open
It forces me back
I use all my strength
Then I hear a crack
I finally make my way in
The dusty old place
The empty bottles of gin

With cobwebs hanging everywhere
No light to guide me through
Something catches my eye
Maybe I have a clue
As I hold this picture in my hand
Of a family from the past

I hear a cry in the distance
I can not run to fast
Will I rush to the door?
Escape while I can
Or will I do what I should
To see who this is

I decide to stay there
Moving myself forward
I hit something
Oh it is only the chair
When I look to the corner
I see a figure in black

It is an old man crouched over
He is wailing back
His eyes are red raw
His body so thin
His mouth full of teeth
Are black with decay

I call to him do you want me to help you
He looks he is weak cannot talk
His eyes say it all
He lost everything
He is now left so small
I bring him to a better place
Where life can be good
But as I help him in the car
His light has left for good

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