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October 25, 2017

 

 

 

 

 

A room of words, on paper, strewn,

piled in corners, touching the moon.

 

A room of words, taking up much space;

standing room only, in this place.

 

A room of words – unedited tosh,

written when the mind was all awash.

 

A room of words, a life poured out;

drawers full of words, with roots that sprout.

 

A room of words on paper curled,

never released to the outside world.

 

A room of words, where thoughts expressed –

simply an outlet, when repressed.

 

A room of words – never explained.

The contents of,  a heart when pained.

 

A room of words and forgotten schemes.

A life of fantasy and old pipe dreams.

 

A room of words where madness grew.

Solitude a killer – a witches brew.

 

A room of words  and damnation’s fate.

Sweat and tears by the hourly rate.

 

A room of words, where shadows dance –

each line depicts, a lost romance.

 

A room of words, where solace sought,

when a mind, untethered, to fantasy did resort.

 

A room of words, where truth concealed

ancient wounds that never healed.

 

A room of words, where mirrors reflect

the writers mood, and thoughts direct.

 

A room of words, where graffiti runs wild

around the head of an ‘only’ child.

 

A room of words where nouns provide,

the comfort of adjectives by their side.

 

A room of words, and repeated rhymes,

that bring to mind, the scene of the crimes. 

 

A room of words, with books unread –

‘originality’ a must, one writer said.

 

A room of words, that did restart

a fading beat, when stabbed through the heart.

 

 A room of words, in notebooks, old –

undated scribblings full of lice and mould. 

 

A room of words – never transferred

onto the latest icloud, as a pen preferred.

 

A room of words – a vault from hell,

housing love and laughter, and life too mad to tell.

 

A room of words, all covered in dust.

The door kept locked – nothing discussed.

 

A room of words, with a vacant chair.

Thank God, I got – the hell out of there.

 

 

 

 

 

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