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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2310950-Why
Rated: E · Poetry · Action/Adventure · #2310950
A poem of the heart...
Ask me not what the reason
For the sickness in your mind
'Cause it hurts to remember
The meaning of myself.

There is an Old House
That is built with love
It tumbles in the storm
That haunts my morn.

In the Basement I find
That Lights Flicker soundless
Gives me frightful dreams
When the Door slams with fright.

Hush, now, and be still
In the blackness of the night
Silent and without a stir
As the haunting brings ill.





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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2310950-Why