My family is an old, abandoned house.
My dad is the foundation-
Strong, and upholding, but with weak spots.
If you touch him in a certain place, he’ll creak and warn you not to do it again.
He keeps our family working, even though my brother and I may step on a loose board
Every now and then.
My mother is the soft, fluffy bed that used to stand in the bedroom-
But now all that’s left of her is a shadow on the floor where she used to sit.
She was always there to welcome you with warm, comforting arms.
She would ease you to sleep.
My brother is the rickety staircase-
Because ever since our mother passed on,
He’s been ready to concave.
“Why?” He asks, “Why do bad people win and good people lose?”
He’s tired of being stepped on by the world.
And I am the flickering lights in the dining room-
Trying to shed light on every situation.
Optimistic, I hang on to every good memory, and every laugh.
But I have my moments where I flick off,
And I leave my family in the dark.
But right away, I’ll flick on again.
Cracking a joke and grinning widely.