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An Empty House
September 13, 2012
Wispy, ticklish, barely there
Up my nose and in my hair
Floorboards creak beneath my feet
Cobwebs float, almost air
Every day here was the same
No more everlasting fame
From dignitaries and men-of-state
Now only rats were those who came
To the nightly parties, wild as sin
Drink so strong it’d melt through tin
Deadly bets with rotten cheese
The scent of which would make you cringe
Cards and money, life on the line
Taste of death, I feel in my mind
The hungry eyes of many a creature
On my hand, and for my life.
© Christopher S, Milford, CT
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