Your pictures still hang on the wall
So I pretend that you’re still there
I walk over just so we can talk
And I sit in your pink chair
I look around and see the little things
That made a house into a home
I wonder if you miss it yet
Or if you’re glad you’re really gone
The flowers planted around the trees
The blue paint on the walls
The rocking chair made out of twigs
I sit here staring at it all
I keep wondering how we lost you
I keep hoping it’s just a dream
But I wake up and there’s nothing
Just a house full of little things
No laughter from the nursery
No barking from the yard
Just a broken heart left pondering
How life became so hard….
~TiffanyLayne
September, 2015
Empty House
5 Comments to “Empty House”
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Very moving and filled with a longing beyond all words . . . Well done!
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Thank you! Poetry = therapy for me!
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You’ve a wise counselor . . .
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Beautiful Tiffany
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Such a heartfelt write Tiffany. I relate and feel your words so powerfully.
