Curiosity Kills

December 12, 2010
Empty little boots
Sitting by your front door
No more pitter-pattering
Of tiny feet on the floor

Only empty swingsets
And untouched cookie tins
Not more rosy, smiling cheeks
No more dimpled chin

It's not your fault you say
There was nothing left to do
You cleaned up the mess so well
But left those little boots

Little eyes peeked in the window
And little eyes saw
All your darkest deeds
And all your darket flaws

Now little Emily is buried
Underneath your floor
And those empty little boots
Stay sitting by your front door





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