Olivia Chen
Unger
English 8,3
10/27/14
Prequel to “Abandoned Farmhouse”
They were contented, say the smiles
In the shattered family portrait;
Loving, too, says the care in the stitches
Sewn on the colorful clothes, and they loved books
Says the age-battered bookshelf
Against the wall, stocked with dusty books;
Though they had worries, say the table
Stacked with bills and the dying crops in the fields.
They were spirited, say the vases
Filled with gathered flowers and blades of grass,
And their bonds only breakable by blood,
Say the pictures of warm and joyful times.
But the child was frail, say the bottles
Of medicine cluttered on the nightstand
And the first-aid kit kept close at hand.
They tried their best, say the letters of desperation.
No help came, say the unused paths.
The darkness was there, say the broken whisky bottles
Littered on the floor. Spatters of dark red liquid on the wooden planks
Speak of his drunken rage; the bits of dress
Caught on the rosebushes speak of how she fled for her life.
And the child? Its eyes are closed,
Like in a peaceful sleep – smile limp,
Small hands now unmoving,
Frail body broken. Darkness prevailed, they say.