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Home Sweet Home (Lyric) by THE GOD OF DEATH
The phone calls echo off the walls, No audience is found For messages to people who Don't like to be around. Again, the ring resounds ignored By stolid glaring from The glossy picture bright with smiles And stares to fake for fun. No longer does the household eat Together sharing time, Each leaves for more important things Pretending each is fine. The father goes to town to work Machining parts for cars, And mother waits for fall of night To clean and wipe down bars. There's Jim who's grown to be quite big, While sister Sue has run Away from Podunk middle class Where she had been undone. So as the phone tolls on and on, Its plaintive trill unheard, The aging house now void of home, Knows nothing of the word.

Down the ladder: Pele's pulse

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Arithmetic Mean: 5.6666665
Weighted score: 5.3333335
Overall Rank: 3490
Posted: March 8, 2003 2:41 AM PST; Last modified: March 8, 2003 2:42 AM PST
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Comments:
[7] intheailse @ 195.92.168.177 | 26-Mar-03/9:45 AM | Reply
real good stuff....
[5] deleted user @ 12.220.75.3 | 1-Aug-03/5:50 PM | Reply
You do a lot better with free verse--not that this isn't good, because it is, but there are so few people who have mastered the art of rhyme and meter. It's really difficult to compete with my personal fav - Shakespeare, who I use as a standard by which to judge others. 5
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