Best not remembered


The post piled up against the door

Told a story best forgot

For in truth just what had happened here

It was not some happy lot


Best we, close the door, and not remember


She looked so scared to be near him

I could see it in her eye

I swear I did my best to talk

I gave my own to try


Best we, close the door, and not remember


That house is still bereft of life

As it stands there against the moors

With it’s slowly lagging timbers

And it’s many empty floors


Though we, closed the door, to not remember





Comments:
There are no messages yet
markBrad
Poetry
Other
writing markBrad
Bookmark and Share

You must log in to rate.
This has not been rated.

© 2014 WritingRoom.com, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WRITING | POETRY WRITING | CREATIVE WRITING | WRITE A BOOK | WRITING CONTESTS | WRITING TIPS