House of Flesh
Crooked,
decrepit windows
see the world in shades of grime.
This lonely house sreaks
and groans in the rain.
Tattered
mother-eaten drapes
cover the hurt of abandonment.
People pass by
and talk cheerfully
of their own inhabited homes,
graced by the presence of a loving owner.
They are filled,
overflowing,
with friendly masses.
They are filled with people
who look in pity and distain
at this crumbling house on the corner.
These bodies pass by
with not a thought to this sad house,
all alone
begging for someone to pass it's threshhold,
to care.
Poor abandoned house on the corner,
quietly falling to pieces as the seasons pass.
No one wants you.
poem by Meggan McGuire
Added by Poetry Lover
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