Inheritance Clause

The letter arrived, no stamp, no name.

My grandfather died, but I feel no shame.

We were estranged, he disliked how I roam.

I read on to see that he’s left me a home,

It weighs in my hand, this unwanted gift,

All I’ve ever wanted was to float and drift.

I’m not all that’s left, why pass it to me?

Curiosity wins, I guess I’ll go see.

I arrive all alone,

Walk the path made of stone,

Open the door, it creaks and drones,

I step inside, the floor bends and moans.

The pictures inside, their eyes are too real,

It’s true art is subjective; I see not the appeal.

A broken doll stares, painted eyes accuse,

The house breathes secrets, tries to confuse.

The basement is wet and creepy,

I feel the urge to be quiet and sneaky.

There is but one clause: I must stay inside

For a full month, with nowhere to hide.

I knew the man hated me,

So, from the grave, he sent me a key

To this destitute place,

Everywhere I look, a new ghostly face

Finds me in silence,

Their eyes speak of violence.

Am I here to inherit?

Or avenge a broken spirit?

Why can’t I leave,

If not to appease

These horrified ghosts, desperate to grieve.

Their eyes are like wounds, hollow and gaunt,

The dead have long hands; this too shall haunt.