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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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