For the Stars Or Home Poetry Contest of Ink Empress
See me here in this yard of tangled weeds where I sit far back and watch the passers-by with a sinking feeling as I settle into ground. Kids throw rocks, smashing my windows, then run off crying out I’m haunted. They’ve dimmed my eyes. My painted skin, once pretty, is peeling. My fixtures are broken; my floors cracked. I smell decay all around me. Old letters cram my mail box. No longer a home with the soothing sounds of family, I am just the bones of one.
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