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The House

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The dogs are always barking.
Soft and distant, loud and near.
This would be normal,
if they hadn’t died years ago, my dear.

The children are crying,
they get closer each day.
I know they truly don’t exist,
but they still won’t go away.

The doors keep shutting on their own,
Or maybe it’s just me,
I wish you would haunt this empty house,
I believe that’s the way it should be.

I walked the tidy hallways,
I don’t think I’ll be here much longer,
one way or another.
The thought makes me relieved but somber.

We lived for this house,
It was just me and you,
You died for this house,
I think I might too.





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