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.