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The Mystery House on My Street

written by: Linda S. Williams


At the end of my street,
Just before the country begins
Is a big old house in wild disrepair.
The shutters hang crooked,
The wind makes them creek,
And the windows seem always to stare.

An old lady lives there
That nobody knows.
A stranger that everyone fears.
But I wonder sometimes
What her story might be.
My thoughts usually bring me to tears.

What would cause her to hide
In that desolate house
With no family or friends to attend?
Like the stories I’ve read
Did her love go to war
And never return at the end?

Is she captive of the house
Which is haunted with ghosts
That keep her from crossing the sill?
What would happen to her
If she dared to step out?
Do they have the power to kill?

As I walk by today
I smile and I wave
Knowing she might need a friend.
But what would I do
If she called to me there?
At that point my courage might end.

Linda S. Williams

Linda S. Williams

Been writing poetry since I was a kid. Got in trouble in 4th grade for passing notes with Little Johnny... they were actually poems. Have been published in a few Anthologies. Now write poetry for the pleasure of it. My career was in Marketing and PR... but am now retired. Belong to The 77 Pearl Street Writers, The Friday Club (a research and present organization).
Linda S. Williams

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