The Haunting of Hill House
Is a place born bad?
Can evil seep in cement,
fear grow then wilt within vine?
Something with no name
weighs in rooms dark, light finite.
Doors lock. Windows look, knowing.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
