Through a holler, in the heart of a range of mountains,
Sat a small trailer at the foot of a hill.
It was cut off from the world via shallow creek,
and a small, concrete bridge. Try and cross if you will.
Wait till sunset and go down the drive way.
Go up the stairs and open the door.
You'll find at opposite ends of the room,
2 people yelling angrily across the floor.
The first, a male hermit, bound by depression.
Broken by the past and always feels bad.
Pain takes him over, both physical and mental.
Hypocritical and Angry, he's rarely ever glad.
The second, a woman, the wife to the first.
Not that bright, but more than kind.
She's always tired and worn out as ever.
Serving strangers if she might.
They yell about money and the happiness of their kids.
They argue about health and how things are done.
Letting the sound of hate bounce off the walls
The sound of it all is not really fun.
YOU ARE READING
Zachary Mosley's Pile Of Poems
PoetryI love to write poems, so, I decided to put all of my poems into one big wattpad story.
