Home This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

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    I get home at 6: 30.

The mother is sitting in the corner listening to the wind.

there is no love Here



The house is not full of warmth, it is cold.

Cold as a dead man's heart.

No sounds of laughing or excitement fill the air any more.

there is no love Here



There is no dinner cooking on the stove.

There is not a scent of spices or freshly cooked apple pie... anymore.

there is no love Here



The windows are sad.

From none of them hang curtains, yet none of them is open.

there is no love Here



From the floorboards grave moans are heard.

There are no lights on the ceiling.

Only one source of light comes from a small candle

burning in a never to be forgotten, locked bedroom, upstairs.

there is no love Here



there is no place for

ME

Here.




This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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ThermadorianGrey said...
Apr. 14, 2010 at 7:37 pm
I really like the sensory lines like, "The mother is sitting in the corner listening to the wind," but then the piece gets kind of abstract and overstated with the refrain of "there is no love here" and "cold as a dead man's heart."
 
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