Poetry

The House Where We Grew Up

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i went to the house where we grew up;
to the rooms that nestled our childhood dreams,
it stood there quiet, still and surreal
like a dream stuck in one scene.

i ran up the stairs we once climbed
and i could hear the sounds.
those treasured sounds of days gone by;
the sound of our laughter,
the sound of our endless chatter,
the sound of our crying
when spanked for our naughtiness,
the sound of the tv tuned in to our favorite cartoon;
tom chasing jerry forever,never catching him,
never giving up either.
i could hear the silence too,
like it used to be when the night had come,
when we quietly lay awake watching the closet,
waiting for a monster to come out and leap on us.


the hallways still bear our scrawling,
our abc’s and 123’s scrabbled all over,
a trace of moms perfume and dads shaving powder lingers in the air
but perhaps it’s just my imagination.

lets go back someday
to the house where we grew up.
where headaches and heartaches do not exist.
lets go back and live there forever,
we could play all day long;
play under the sun,play under the stars,
and no one would spank us for our naughtiness.
you could hide my books and toys
knowing i’ll always find them and forgive you,
we could be kids forever.
lets go back to the house where we grew up
for its more than a house,
it’s home.