My strength is swept away
Under the rug at the door
Strangers trample it as they come
Inside and see my emotions
Tucked away neatly between
The pages of dusty books
Blood smiles fall from my lips
And onto the cracked plates
Full of mouldy bread
My soul pours into glasses
Over sour wine
I sigh coldly as my guests
Devour their depraved meal
When they have taken their leave
I will open my dusty books
And weep into the pages.
Author notes
In case you're wondering what the title has do with it, the image I held in my head while writing this was the Prince House in Calgary. It's a beautiful old (and supposedly haunted) house that I used to clean. So no reason for the title other than that
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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a good poem, sorrow floating around heavily, and dark imagery sighing along the lines with an acceptance.
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Sounds so lonely...
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Grand imagery, full of emotions, the words read with ease, well written, love the first line the best very powerful opening,
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Nice use of the word moldy! I've been looking for a way to use it in a poem! Love this piece. It's full of emotions i wish I could write.
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Wows, I wish i wrote emotion this good. So full of imagery and metaphor, I loved it entirely. Therefore I cannot give you favorite lines, because you don't want to read a comment that is basically your own poem. xP. I didn't get so much of a haunted house feel as a haunted existence. I can feel the distress and pain radiating off your words. :]
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Wonderful
Great poem. It's depressing, thoughtful and eerie. Great job capturing the nature of a haunted spirit, and possibly hinting at more.
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Very deep
I have to say that my interpretation of this poem has little to do with the haunted house. For me, it is a poem about vulnerability, loneliness and betrayal on a personal level though I can see that this may still have a relevance to the ghost too. The "strangers" who "trample" do so on your trust, love and self-belief while you hide your emotions behind a "blood smile".
The images of pain can be seen in "cracked plates", "sour wine" and weeping. It is as though you( the ghost personified) feel that you have been used and discarded by insensitive people who have failed to see beneath the surface of your prepared and false smile. Like the ghost, you feel the need to have closer contact, not guests who merely come and go with little more commitment than a vague sense of curiosity.
Well, it was an interesting interpretation to offer, even if it is wide of the mark lol.
I see this poem as very poignant.
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