Home Alone

She is alone at home,

and alone in her room.

Everything seems to be dead silent,

except for the sound of the wind.

It is as if nothing exists

on this large world.

Nothing moves,

nothing cares,

nothing talks.

The walls seem to be staring at her

from all four sides,

and the ceiling looks down upon her,

like the owner of the room.

Stuffed animals are looking down,

desk and chairs are looking away,

but the only thing that is making eye contact

with her

is the mirror she wiped yesterday.

Mirror glares back at her

by changing into her shape

within the mirror.

Then she suddenly hears the clock ticking,

ticking very slowly,

and seems to be dying away again.

Now everything seems to be dead silent.