The Orange Brick House in Westridge Farms
I was worried they’d paint the house brown
Or red or green or blue.
I couldn’t even imagine
They’d turn it into something new
Now they’re ripping up the floorboards
Like your absence tore my heart.
It’s as though every nail they place
Tears us further apart.
300 miles plus an extra six feet,
3.5 hours turned into four.
But we never make the drive
Because there’s no home for us anymore.
The earth didn’t stop spinning
When your heart ceased to beat
But for me, my world was shattered
So I’ll never drive down that street.
I don’t want to see what’s changed,
Or the house that’s been reformed.
All i want is to go back
To the way it was before.
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.
