Poem 2

Another poem I wrote for an English class:

The House On Maureen Drive

On the night we arrived to the house on Maureen Drive
thunder struck every five minutes and rain showered down from above.
As a five year old who thought dinosaurs were still alive,
the sound made me clutch onto my mothers damp polka dot dress
every time the sky was illuminated.

A few years later this place became my home.
My room was my safe haven,
with white walls, a tiny Tweety bird covered bed,
an old Windows ’98 computer and Barbies scattered around
keeping me safe from the world outside.

Outside were familiar faces
who throughout the years became family.
Outside was the familiar street
which I walked down every day to the bus stop.
Outside was where I spent my time
playing pretend and tag and hide-and-seek with other children.

The house on Maureen Drive was nothing fancy,
one story ranch style with a two car garage,
beige siding and a large grassy backyard.
It became my home and when it was finally time to say goodbye
I barely looked back.

This one I was specifically proud of because I finally put into words my feelings about my childhood home. It was a place that I loved and I still miss it everyday. It's hard going back and I try to avoid it as much as possible, but it will forever be in my heart.