The red brick row home
Here the sun shines through the broken glass windows
The silent cries of the rising yellow crescent sunsets
The sounds still foreign to me
Here is the row home
Rebuilt
Reborn
Three stages of lifetimes
Three roads watching Dorthy walk by without her ruby slippers
Is there a place like home?
Blood of open wounds traveling down the wooden staircase
There’s no place like home
Flying monkeys eating through the gas stove
Gasoline smells throughout the house
Bottles throughout the rooms
The tinman may need a body
Gasoline cans won’t hold him much longer
Living room bare
The shine of the silver moon
Brings spirits dancing around
Like a ballroom
The creaking of the floors has lost its fight
This old row home won the game
The girl with the gapped tooth smiles
Waiting on the porch clicking her ruby slippers
Three times
Humming…
There’s no place like Philly home
There’s no place like Philly home
There’s no place like Philly home…
Laniyah Emile attends Franklin Learning Center High School in Philadelphia, PA. She started writing poetry during the pandemic while the world was silent. She wrote loud and passionate words in her notebook during her free time, and those lovely moments paid off.