I am stuck in a rut
as I walk through this town
all that I can see along my trek
are the dreaded White Houses.
I want to scream.
These house seem so normal
so picturesque, but are they really?
What goes on inside of these
so called perfect places?
Do they fight with one another,
or beat upon there children?
Or do they stare out of a darkened window
hating me as I walk by because
I seem happier then they in there
monotonous existence?
Who's to say what really goes on
inside these overtly ordinary abodes.
It seems that every other home I pass
is some shade of mediocre white.
Be it eggshell, ivory, or blindly white,
they have no originality,
Is this so that they can hide the
horror that lies inside?





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