Writing Prompt

The old house stands in moonlight pale,

Its bones a frame of weary wood,

And through the halls, a wistful tale,

Of years gone by, misunderstood.

The floorboard sighs with every step,

A voice so frail yet firm and true,

It holds the weight, though age has crept,

Through creaking joints and splintered hue.

It once stood strong in bygone days,

When laughter spilled from every room...

Back when I was young I lived in a house, it was a beautiful brown brick house with one big window that looked into the livingroom. Brown door and door noob that looked rusty but it wasn’t. When you step into the house we had this light brown wood floor. My mom will be in the kitchen cooking and she will know when someone enter the house because we had this one floorboard that will creak when you ...

El piso crujiente suena gracias a las contracciones por la temperatura y la humedad despreocupada que rodeaba literalmente toda la casa.

Años que nadie pisaba la casa, las paredes se desgastaban cada vez más, perdían su color y ya ninguna luz artificial funcionaba o hacía presencia en la casa, la única luz existente podría ser era la luz de la luna por la noche, que iluminaba levemente el lecho y...

It’s just not quite right,

No one can tell why,

It’s just… off.

It gets walked over, day after day,

And it never ceases to cry out,

Yet, most get used to it.

They tune it out,

Ignoring the plea,

It just wants to be put right.

They don’t listen,

Claiming they will help,

When convenient for them.

It just wants to be better,

Begs for a break,

Holding the weight of the footsteps,

Wal...

Ever since I was delivered here, I have watched the feet stomp across me. I have watched children play, students crazily study, and I have watched dreams come true. I have been here for many years, since this place has opened. The elderly man who owns the place, comes in every morning to open up. He unlocks the big glass doors with a big friendly smile everyday. One that shows his passion and his ...

I am a tender sapling born from the earth,

Beautiful and elegant though I was born of the dirt.

With passion and love I reach for the sky,

A universal dance in a symphony of light.

Yearning for the suns undying devotion,

Each leaf a whisper of dreams soft and spoken.

I stood tall a sentinel of time,

Each moment alive, a reflection of the divine.

My bark thickening with the weight of the seasons,...

In the silent corridor of the old Rookwood House, where shadows danced along dust-laden walls, lay a creaky floorboard that had long ceased to be merely planks underfoot. Affectionately known by the residents as “Old Joseph,” this board possessed a personality as rich and layered as the memories it harboured. Each footstep upon it was not just a mere tread—it was a conversation with time, an echo ...

I lay here in agony at the vintage house I lived all my life, staring at the white popcorn ceiling above me. My surroundings are what you would expect of a lived in house. Sky blue colored walls that were painted over many times due to cracks and some past residents children thinking they were artists, an outdated tv with an antenna sticking out of its top, and the old heavy brown leather couch to...

Las envergaduras recorren la madera como arrugas de un rostro adulto que vió una vida pasar.

Sintió cosquillas con el cepillo de una escoba que le sacó el polvo para prometer una nueva vida.

Escuchó los susurros llenos de esperanza de dos voces que se prometían un para siempre.

Percibió las caricias de unas pequeñas que daban sus primeros pasos con un gateo lleno de determinación.

Se resecó con la...

I am the one that speaks whilst its quiet

I give away your position when you attempt you silence

I give signals away like sirens

You cannot surpass me as I am throughout this house

Like a cloud you live under

I make you worry when I unknowingly rouse

I am now the houses echoing thunder....