deepundergroundpoetry.com
The House
The fire burns the house,
leaving a shell of the memories it held.
Broken, like the family it once held.
A pile of char, never again to be home.
Abandoned, never to be loved again.
After all, who loves a piece of charred wood?
Nobody.
The house failed,
was lost to the flames.
Or was it the people who failed?
Was if life?
Is the house just another casualty in this twisted game we play?
Is the boy that never escaped a casualty?
Why, why should it be that way?
But it is this way
And it will never change.
It is and always will be LIFE.
leaving a shell of the memories it held.
Broken, like the family it once held.
A pile of char, never again to be home.
Abandoned, never to be loved again.
After all, who loves a piece of charred wood?
Nobody.
The house failed,
was lost to the flames.
Or was it the people who failed?
Was if life?
Is the house just another casualty in this twisted game we play?
Is the boy that never escaped a casualty?
Why, why should it be that way?
But it is this way
And it will never change.
It is and always will be LIFE.
Published 4th Mar 2016
| Edited 14th Dec 2016
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likes 4
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The author encourages honest critique.
4th Mar 2016 9:19pm
Can relate this to many true life tragic tales of families lost in house fires.
5th Mar 2016 6:48pm
I think human psychology is shaped more by the losses it experiences than by its joys and accomplishments, at least subconsciously where suffering rumbles in a great boiler. I like the use of questioning, it throws the reader out of simple mood creation into analysis and problem solving which is the aim of socially aware poetry.
