ωяιтιиg ∂αввℓєѕ

The Ruined House {Poetry}

He was a tall man, says the size of his chewed up shoes

within the rubble of the living room;

A military man as well, says the neatly folded uniform

tucked within the master bedroom closet.

He was married to a fashionable woman, says the large closet

filled to the brim with clothes, shoes, and purses;

She was a cook, says the nice Pioneer Woman cookware

lying on the broken tile of the trashed kitchen.

They had two daughters, says the two rooms upstairs

that were both uniquely designed to their tastes;

One daughter was the athletic and competitive type, says the soccer bag and trophies

crushed by the rubble of the roof;

The other was the more artistic child, says the smashed record player, posters, and pens

scattered across the room;

The family owned many pets of both cat and dog, says the food bowls and water dishes

dotting all over the ruined house.

Something went wrong, says the house in ruins

that managed to remain standing through all the chaos and debry, moonlight shining from a large crater in the roof;

They left in a hurry, says the tire marks

from the driveway to the branch-covered street.

Something went wrong, they say.