If the walls of this house could talk

It would tell you of the little girl, scared to leave her room for the monsters looming around, ready to pounce on her at any second.

It would tell you of the bottles that clink in the trash can, and pile up as they are put in.

It would tell you of the woman on her comupter, telling of her lies

and it would tell of the youngest, letting out her cries.

It would tell of a dog, who shook when thunder roared.

It would tell of an old woman, who just wanted to go to sleep.

It would tell of a girl who grew up too quick, no longer little anymore.

It would tell you of that same girl, and her terrible ways she coped

It would tell you of the man, who loved washington more than the 2 little girls

and it would tell of the oldest, begging to be loved for who she is, rainbow and all