The House Across the Street

Often, I have pondered over the people next door.

Do they talk to me or should I ignore?

The curtains are drawn and the doors are always shut.

I close my eyes and take a step,

But my feet feel like lead

And I need to go to bed.

Am I that person that is talked about?

I can’t stand the worry and the doubt.

I dutifully wave to the car passing by,

Knowing my gesture is truly a lie.

Give me my pill,

So I can deal,

And make it to my next meal,

So this thing I call life will appear somewhat real.


by Erica M. Kadrmas
March 21, 2006