Dead And Not Gone


Why are they here in my house
moving all the furniture around
hanging pictures on my walls that
they painted that horrible color?
I must say they have poor taste
and I'm considering locking those
rowdy children outside in the dark.

They just ignore my loud shouts
and refuse to answer my questions.
This house has been in my family
for five generations, MY family.
How dare they take out walls
and cover the heart of pine floors
with that tacky nylon carpeting.

Last night when they were asleep
I banged every door in the house
and threw the dishes on the floor.
They all woke up and ran downstairs
intent on finding the noisy culprit.
I hid in the pantry, silently laughing.
It took them all night to clean up.

That foolish woman found my trunk
in the attic, is nothing sacred now?
She had the nerve to try on my ivory
lace, wedding gown and veil, it looked
ridiculous on her, too fat to button it.
Tonight I'll bang doors, break dishes
and then I'll let them see me at last!

This is my house, my family home
They think they will run me away.
Well, let them think again because
I've lived here for a hundred five years.
Every inch of this house is still mine.
They will learn to respect me or else.
I may be dead.... but I'm not gone.



10/28/2015 La Belle Rouge