Where the Children Live

by StoryWeaver13

Published October 30, 2011

In Poetry B.C.

the children live in the strange stone houses,
words embedded on the wall.

the children rest in their well-made beds,
those children, oh so small.

the children sleep so silently;
they do not make a sound.

the children live in the old stone houses…
buried ‘neath the ground.


Spoiler! :
I don't know, I'd been planning on writing something for Halloween, but this one creeps me out a little bit....mostly because I feel like I specifically know who I'm talking about. O_O Basically, this was inspired by a conversation I had about the children's section of the cemetery. So very sad as well. :(

Comments & reviews · 3
User avatar
wewinwelose
Review
wewinwelose wrote a review Review · Nov 4, 2011

I love this. I love the fact that the mean theme, the main point of the poem isn't revealed until the very last line (or the second to last if you're smart enough to figure out that "stone houses" means coffins). Anyways, I just wanted to say that I love it and it was really sad :(. Goodjob!

User avatar
Sianniiee
Review
Sianniiee wrote a review Review · Oct 30, 2011

Hello there,

If you were planning on writing a poem for halloween I for one think that you have achieved that goal ;3
When you read the poem its sends shivers down your spine and gives off a very eerie atmosphere which is great for any spooky poem (because that's the main goal right?)

thanks
sianniiee

User avatar
Fizz
Review
Fizz wrote a review Review · Oct 30, 2011

That is honestly so creepy, and really really sad. And this is like the second time ever I've said this, but I like the rhyming. It's very rhythmical and it's just the perfect length. It actually sounds like a children's rhyme, which just makes this even creepier.

Also, I like that you haven't used capital letters because I don't think you should have to, and if nothing else, aesthetically it looks good. I know that might sound strange, but it really does.

I love it, and I think you have real talent.



The thing about plummeting downhill at fifty miles an hour on a snack platter - if you realize it's a bad idea when you're halfway down, it's too late.
— Rick Riordan, The Son of Neptune