This is the poem I wrote about my experience living in a haunted house. I have a book of short horror stories and poems based on real life experiences. It's called "Mockingbird Tales" something I came up with while living in Alaska on Mockingbird Drive.
I hope you like it and I'm excited to share more! (ps I put the poem below as well if you can't read the print.) :D
In this house you have to be careful,
Not to wake those who can be a handful.
In this house the drawers open at random,
The silverware, the dishes and glasses move in tandem.
In this house we would have 9-1-1 at the ready,
But night after night, we realized the noises were many.
In this house the iron turns itself on,
Hopefully when we get home, the house won’t be gone.
In this house our two black cats make weird positions,
Like walking backwards affected by their own superstitions.
In this house there’s an empty room under the stairs,
No one likes to sleep there, you have vivid nightmares.
In this house something clanks the bowl with a spoon,
But the only thing in the kitchen is the light of the moon.
In this house a random woman appears,
Particularly in the bathroom at the bottom of the stairs.
In this house, a psychic medium once came.
She asked aloud, “Tell us your name?”
In this house she came years ago,
She found the love of her life, her handsome beau.
In this house no wedding day came,
She waited, and waited and waited in vain.
In this house she said her goodbyes,
The room under the stairs is where she lies.
In this house we now live with care,
We even dub it, the Spinster’s lair.
In this house, our guests are many,
But we honor our host, her name is Jenny.
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