Nelly the Hoarder
She lived a sad life may she rest in peace
Nelly the Hoarder
Nelly lived at number four,
papers stacked behind the door,
bags of buttons, broken clocks,
rusted keys in tangled socks.
Cups she’d never drink from twice,
mouldy bread and hardened rice,
string from parcels long forgot,
cans of soup, and God knows what.
Neighbours spoke in whispered tones,
called her house a heap of bones,
but Nelly smiled, she didn’t care,
found her riches everywhere.
To her, the scraps were threads of gold,
stories that were never told,
pieces of a life she’d known,
fearing emptiness alone.
One day, silence filled her flat,
no more rustling this and that.
All those things she left behind,
echoed what she tried to find.
And now the street feels strange and bare,
without her clutter, charm, and care.
Nelly’s gone, but still they say,
her hoard remains to this very day.
Somewhere behind the dust and grime,
you’ll find a clock that lost its time,
a single shoe, a broken comb,
and scraps of what she called her home.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
Keep reading
More stories from Marie381Uk and writers in Poets and other communities.
Killing him slowly
There’s an intruder in my house again. He stumbles through the door, wet carrier bags in hand. He’s bought me offerings. I show my appreciation, letting him caress my beautiful body. He wants to touch me. I rub myself against his legs. He sighs, dropping the bags. He can’t resist touching me. Running his hand slowly down my spine, I arch my back towards his caress, let out a low purr. It’s what we both need.
By N J Delmasa day ago in Horror
Comments (3)
I like Nelly. I am somewhat hoarder. Only issue was the moldy bread.
This is sad, but you captured Nelly with such heart.
How sad this poem is, and at least she died kind of happy the way she lived. She was probably depressed about something or even anxious who knows and her hoarding was her way of coping. Good job.