Poem A Day 1 of 30

That house is haunted.

That house is (not) haunted I am haunted.

I am haunted everytime we drive by that house

And I have to hear the story.

The woman was burned alive

Who was a member of the volunteer fire company

And had no smoke detectors.

I am haunted by this story because

I feel this pit smaller than a cherry sitting in my gut

And it whispers to me You are missing a smoke detector and everyone will say

where am I missing a smoke detector?

But she was (This) or (That)

what if I don’t hear the sirens telling me to get the fuck out?

And how could she, knowing all that she knew about (This) or (That),

Get burned alive by it?

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