Murder House by Dawn Pisturino

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This house was her prison,

And when she died,

She thought she would be free.

But her soul became trapped

Between the bitter walls, —

This house of misery

And pain

And drunkenness

And decay.

This house was her prison,

And when she died,

She thought she would be free.

She was trapped between the walls –

And could not escape –

This house of despair

And loud voices

And violence

And blood.

This house was her prison,

And when she died,

She thought she would be free.

But she remained trapped

Between the walls of her lethal prison –

This house of death

That took her life

And hid her body

Between the walls.

She could not break free.

-DAWN PISTURINO

Dawn Pisturino is a retired registered nurse in Arizona, USA whose publishing credits include poems, limericks, short stories, and articles. Please visit her at Dawn Pisturino’s Blog.

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