She walked in through the front door
She noticed the rich wooden floor
And how the sunlight in through the windows
That caused mottled patterns when the light goes
As they walked around the house and to the main room
She felt right away that this room was different in its gloom
Then she saw a shadowy figure in the corner
And she saw the hate on his face as a past owner
Although not a word came out from the mouth on his face
The figure looked like he screamed at them to displace
Them from the house in their haste
Quickly she left the house without time to waste.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem