You stand before me, so quiet, contained

A house, strong and tall, yet weak within

Peering through two windows I quietly spy

The hurt, the pain that’s hidden behind

The long curtains that quickly drape

The going ons from prying eyes, that dare

To peek within.

I am those eyes, that gently try

To move the curtains, to look inside.

The blurry glass, so wet from tears

That stained the glass throughout the years.

The thrown plates, the broken lamps

The voices that shook the tv stand.

Heartbeat quickens and so does the breath

At the memories of the raging wrath.

The broken house, that stands alone

Amongst the mansions, amongst the drones

The neighbors that stood idly by

As the children within began to cry.

The windows fog and darken more

As I stare, no longer inviting

No longer there.