The Cold House

Just passing more thoughts around :)

Room to room I walk the halls,

Cleaning dust as it slowly falls.

Dimly lit the lights appear lit,

Alone I ponder while I sit.

The house is cold even heated,

Just out of place silently seated.

No conversation nor beings near,

Just silence and loneliness appear.

Computer less inviting then before,

Flat screen images of movies galore.

Alone to my self a home I made me,

Still cold are the walls of my insanity.

Reviews

[Mr. Lopez]

We're damned if we do and damned if we don't. Putting yourself out there makes us vulnerable to all sorts of things. We shield ourselves in an effort to protect ourselves but end up living in our own prison. I know because I've done it ,am doing it and can very much so relate to your poem of loneliness. Maybe I mis interpreted it but that's what I got from it. I still enjoyed it.

[Bohrium Guy]

You did read it correctly. :) Thanks for the awesome review.

~Rob~

[Mr. Lopez]

This reminds me of a poem that I have posted here called My Walls. Check out some of my writing, I think that you might like it. I write about sorrow and pain but always in the shadows of hope. Peace

[Valentine]

How I feel since losing my husband. Valentine

[barleygirl]

I can very much relate to this multi-layered message . . . the imagery is well done, as is the rhyming. This is how it really is in my little cabin, but it could also be the case in the fanciest home with tons of BTU's available: "the house is cold even heated." I love most of your simple observations that can be interpreted in multiple ways, especially the last line.