The following poem is an original work. It may not be reproduced or published elsewhere without the author's permission.
To obtain permission or to get more info, contact Scuttles@ScaryPlace.com or contact the author directly at the address provided below.

you awake from your slumber
head down your stairs
into your kitchen
no food has been made
you must of awakened before your father
for he always made a meal before he left on to work
you go into the pantry
dark as night
lights not working
there's something wet on the ground
why cant we ever get anything right here
you reach out and grab some cereal
back at your kitchen
eating your breakfast
then you finish and go to take the empty box to the trash the trash
cans aren't there
it must be monday
mother always takes the trash out the night before
you go back up your stairs back to your room
you put cloths on
then proceed to brush your teeth and comb your hair
you wander out side your bath room
wondering why no one has waken yet
you go to your sisters room
light off, bed empty
must of spent the night at a friends
you go to your parents room, light wont turn on
never could get anything right could we
you walk in find your way to their bed
you reach forth to find it empty
full of fear you stumble back down the stairs, turn the kitchen light on
fill the down stairs full of light
you look onto the living room from where you stand
brother cold as stone
eyes blood shot and dead
still holding his boil from the weeks before
you turn to the table in the kitchen
father
mother
dead and cold
the food in which they were eating
rotting
mold
flies festering and eating
you walk to the front of the house
to your door you open it up
walk to your world
and realize
you are dead too.

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