Inside this House

Look into my eyes. What do you see?

Inside This House

When you glance into my windows,
what scene do you see?
Is there a quaint TV family
or some B-movie monstrosity?

I am not housebound all day,
as the local gossips tell.
While my bruises are still healing,
I keep them covered pretty well.

But if you were to come inside,
you might find a warm reception
from one who would rather not hide.

My cheeks may burn, but in my blushes
is embarrassment of all my neighors -
those liars, back-stabbers, and lushes.

They smile and wave and think they're smart,
their birdbrains fleeing this scarecrow
as if cowardice were a novel art.
I know better from my exile in shadow.

So, gaze into my windows all you like,
just don't forget to knock on my door.
You'll never know until you come inside
what my secret smile is for.


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--- Kat with special thanks to JohnAshen of writing.com