New house
Stepping onto the hard floor,
no memories to be shared here,
thoughts are neutral no emotion,
the unnerving stench of staleness,
and unlived in state feels so impersonal,
so uncomfortable,
memories piled high in our old home,
and stored like books in my head,
it feels so cold here,
unexplainable feeling of fear,
no aroma of delicious food flowing through the house,
the rooms are not personalised,
just stripped bare,
dust flies through the air,
it can't be called a home yet,
it's just a house with inhabitants,
it can only be called mine,
but i will continue to see our previous house as home,
it'll take getting used to,
it'll take time,
i'll try and make it feel like mine now,
living in the new house.
poem by Emily Summers
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
