ABADONED HOUSE

My childhood house seemed haunted,
Rusty gate and dusty verandah welcomed me,
The door creaked open, and the stale smell suffocated me,
All my books, empty pens, and used notebooks cursed me,
Old frames and damaged albums spoke of my past.
Mattress, couch and my gadgets,
Dolls, toys and a haunted swing,
His stange glasses, mocked me,
"Yes you won" I surrendered,
Each corner reminded me of those ugly days,
I lived them,
I suffered.
The lonely terrace invited me,
Trees which I used to chide had grown taller 
"I'm sorry" I told them, "I don't want to live here anymore."
And I assumed they smiled,
Neighbours who pretended not to know our stories waved at me,
My childhood friend, I missed her, her house seemed empty.

Kids rode tricycles,
Cats slept on the sunshade 
Dogs whined
The novels I never read
I packed the last set of books,
Locked the door,
And promised never to enter that house again.