Silent Screaming

BY CAROLE NICHOLS


Rooms and hallways, empty of life;
Remnants of curtains, tattered and torn.
No light to offer that tenuous warmth;
Silent as the womb of the yet unborn.

Musty, dusty, abandoned by all;
Damp faded colors staining the walls.
Leaving faint imprints of yesterday;
An aching loneliness the memory recalls.


Once there was sparkle and laughter;
Hope ran rich in the veins of the home.
With a flick of a switch the light went out;
Leaving naught but an echo of being alone.


And the memory can be a bitter pill;
That clenches the gut in a rousing pain.
For the house that held your heart and soul,
Is lost and forgotten, silent screaming again.