The House That Cries Poem by G J Salgado

A home that houses more than just us
An odd, yet familiar feeling of mistrust

There lurks a story behind its walls
In between what is unseen as the voices call

Full of mystery, despair, and sadness
Something tragic inside this house lives

It speaks of abuse and other things unknown yet
Angry saddened spirits hold secrets they cannot forget

Filled with unhappy thoughts that fill the air
I feel their presence but no one is there

Wondering what caused such morbid creations
As the waters drain from its foundation

Crying out to me as if to tell me their stories
Confused by the emotion of its memories

I try to listen but I can't quite hear
When I hear the voices everywhere

Sounds as they talk but their words are unclear
Feeling a hopeless ending when I feel their fear

I question if it is the ghosts or the house that is alive
Whenever I see the mists and shadows within the house on Warwick Drive

Little creatures and beings come from inside the floors and walls
In between visitors, voices, and footsteps down the halls

Knowing when a dream is no longer a dream when I am touched
Nightmares of times and people that I've never known but their existence means so much

Who knows if I will ever know what truly happened beyond what I can see
Among the ones that remain trapped within this world who can no longer be

For at this moment between distance and time in my life, I am blinded by my human mortal soul and eyes
From seeing and knowing what happened during this tragic mystery of why the house on Warwick Drive cries