Quiet: A Poem

Don't you just hate it when you are trying to read or write, and someone just has to be reading over your shoulder while your doing whatever. For instance, right now I'm trying to write another post, but some annoying little snooper (Thanks Dad!) has to be looking at every word I type. Jeesh people!!! Give this poor, lonely writer a break! Anyway, this poem kind of just came to me when I was listening to those creepy ghost noises late one night. I'm not saying I can relate to it in any way, but.... here goes.

Quiet

Voices, loud and piercing,

creeping into the darkness of my room.

Rising, growing

louder and louder,

a never-ending crescendo.

Footsteps down the hall

echoing to my parents' room,

Urgent.

Breathless sobs as the bedroom door

slams shut.

Silence.

A new sound now.

Throwing clothes into bags,

movements rushed, unfeeling.

Military footsteps

back down the hall.

The front door opens,

then slams shut,

as I lay on my bed

no longer safe and warm.

Through the opening of

the fraying curtains

a car takes flight

into the dark.

Gasps and tears

compliment the

fading sound.

A final slam.

The final silence.

Peace, love, and happiness

- Becca