They adorn these walls as ugly ornaments: <br />Invisible trails of vermin <br />Painted with the bile of bitterness <br />for all to see. <br /> <br />The roof is a dome of cobwebs <br />Spun with entangled filial threads <br />that trap the sun’s warmth <br />Plunging the enclave in perpetual cold. <br /> <br />Its fragile foundation, <br />quaked by a split along maternal lines <br />that displaced brethren into separate camps, <br />still records intrigues and suspicions as after-shocks. <br /> <br />The patriarch wears a mask of anger <br />to scare off domestic intruders <br />and hide the wrinkles of frustrations <br />Etched so deeply on his forehead. <br /> <br />His smiles are as rare as comets. <br />They brighten this chasm of darkness in a flash <br />then disappear into oblivion <br />with a furious blaze. <br /> <br />The pain of deprivation sears like hot knife <br />threatening to rend soul and spirit <br />Hurting relationships with peers <br />Dulling the senses to learning. <br /> <br />The wind howls in sympathy <br />to mournful tales of vineyard trees: <br />Wilted leaves and gaunt branches <br />Yearning for the refreshments of fertile soils. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />January 2005©<br /><br />Chukuemeka Akpe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-house-is-not-a-home/
