The House At The End Of The Street

poem by: Jenny Linsel
Written on Feb 22, 2017

There was a house at the end of my street
No-one lived there for very long
During the war, an entire family wiped out
When an aeroplane dropped a bomb

The family living there at the time
Amounted to unlucky thirteen
Mother, father, baby Mary
And ten children in between

They were a lovely family
Liked by everyone
Janet Smithson who was a nurse
And her hard-working husband John

They were in the front room having tea
On that fateful day
When an aeroplane scored a direct hit
And God took them all away

The whole town was in mourning
For the Smithson family
Mother, father and eleven children
The youngest baby Mary who was three

What was left of the house was boarded up
Then the tenants would move in
Off would come the boards
The walls they were so thin

We'd hear their every movement
If they slammed a door, the walls would shake
Wild parties held by young teenagers
Would keep us all awake

A tenant would live there for a couple of months
Then they’d go on their way
We'd ask them why they were moving out
But none of them would say

This went on for many years
Tenants would come and go
I asked the landlord what was wrong
He said that he didn't know

One day I plucked up the courage
To question a tenant as they were about to leave
She said “"I’m almost scared to tell you
I’ve never been one to believe

But there is something supernatural
Going on in the hall 
When everything is quiet
We can hear screaming coming from the wall”"

She said she'd looked on the internet
In the local branch library
And read up on the house's history
And the sad fate of the Smithson family

After years of squatters and standing empty
The house it was pulled down
But what happened to the Smithson’s 
Is still remembered in my home town

 

Tags: rhyme, depressing,

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Frank Hornby . commented:
Haunting tale...nice clever poem.............again Jenny...

 

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