Broken

Broken

By pete marshall

Homes that are silent apart from a tick

the creak of the pipes and the hum of a fridge

the hub of a kitchen now cordoned with tape

a house that lays dormant alone and awake

A path that lies beaten , a broken front door

the smell of the damp and the chill of the floor

and breath that sits heavy upon a cold face

the coals in the shed and the ash in the grate

The rooms that are empty and a bed that is cold

the sheets that are soiled and the truths that are told

and skies that are angry from tempers that flare

the shouts in the house from the souls that lay bare

The stains on the walls are the strains of a fight

the sound of the heart that beats through the night

and the hub of a kitchen now cordoned with tape

a house that lays dormant alone and awake 

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Originally published at One Stop Poetry 4th September 2010

image courtesy commons flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/bored-now/