Array ( [sid] => 119288 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => SHATTERED HOUSE: the travler (part 3) [time] => 2006-05-01 01:30:36 [hometext] => after posting the second part to the shatttered house, i realized ihad a lot more to add... i couldnt stop writing!!! anyways this is part 3, and i will be posting a part 4 with a final conclusion tomorrow... thanks so much for all the comments!!! [bodytext] => a foreigner
standing at this door
a stranger
don’t know how I got here
bending down
I pick up the pieces off the ground
scatter them around
dispersing the pieces of the house
and begin to see underneath the mess
a stranger a travler
a foreigner passing through here
goin down a long windy road
travel'n along, I see this broken house, broken home
but it wasnt until
I saw pieces of things, I began to feel
the memories so familiar
the pains so exquisit, too hard to bare
I shuffled through the broken pieces
and had a sudden flow of memories
and picking up, I began...
What was left of the broken frame,
crying and weeping
the memories I start remembering
first the pain and agony
while picking up the shattered windows
and the shattered walls
secondly feeling a chuckle and a sigh
allowing my eyes to dry
i remember the laughter
as I take quick glances and views here
of the happy sun shining moments
through the open windows,
upon the golden walls
for this house still stands tall
floods of tears falling
emotionally , I start repairing
getting lost in this sight
as im putting it back together day and night
a little insane I might
but it has to be done right
in the middle of this part framed house
coming in, I see travelers
from near and far coming in their cars
one by one, getting out
with tools in their hands to help
taking the frames from my blistered hands
they one by one start repairing
for the work alone, I cant keep doing
the tears I have cried
upon my face, marks have dried
wounds and dirt
upon my face so burnt
by the emotional labor
I have physically poured
I was just a traveler
passing through here
not realizing this was my own house
shattered into broken pieces
the pain was too great
the disaster was too much weight
so I left it for a long time
forgetting this house was mine
becoming the foreigner and traveler
to my own disaster [comments] => 2 [counter] => 195 [topic] => 31 [informant] => Adelle [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 11 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - SHATTERED HOUSE: the travler (part 3)


SHATTERED HOUSE: the travler (part 3)
Date: Monday, 1st May 2006 @ 01:30:36 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Adelle
a foreigner
standing at this door
a stranger
don’t know how I got here
bending down
I pick up the pieces off the ground
scatter them around
dispersing the pieces of the house
and begin to see underneath the mess
a stranger a travler
a foreigner passing through here
goin down a long windy road
travel'n along, I see this broken house, broken home
but it wasnt until
I saw pieces of things, I began to feel
the memories so familiar
the pains so exquisit, too hard to bare
I shuffled through the broken pieces
and had a sudden flow of memories
and picking up, I began...
What was left of the broken frame,
crying and weeping
the memories I start remembering
first the pain and agony
while picking up the shattered windows
and the shattered walls
secondly feeling a chuckle and a sigh
allowing my eyes to dry
i remember the laughter
as I take quick glances and views here
of the happy sun shining moments
through the open windows,
upon the golden walls
for this house still stands tall
floods of tears falling
emotionally , I start repairing
getting lost in this sight
as im putting it back together day and night
a little insane I might
but it has to be done right
in the middle of this part framed house
coming in, I see travelers
from near and far coming in their cars
one by one, getting out
with tools in their hands to help
taking the frames from my blistered hands
they one by one start repairing
for the work alone, I cant keep doing
the tears I have cried
upon my face, marks have dried
wounds and dirt
upon my face so burnt
by the emotional labor
I have physically poured
I was just a traveler
passing through here
not realizing this was my own house
shattered into broken pieces
the pain was too great
the disaster was too much weight
so I left it for a long time
forgetting this house was mine
becoming the foreigner and traveler
to my own disaster

This poem is Copyright © Adelle


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