The walls in my house are thin.
They carry noises,
They carry voices,
And the angry shouts from the other room.
The walls in my house are thin.
I can hear the fights,
Clearly at midnight,
When I pretend to sleep.
The walls in my house are thin.
It's as if they don't exist,
And my hears cannot resist,
Listening to what happens on the other side.
--Written by moon-and-roses
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Poetry for a Thought Contest
RandomWhat inspires you most? Is it the way your cat balances precariously on the fence or the way a single leaf floats gradually to the ground. Whatever it is, write about it.
