Just a state of the mind
I clutch for support as I sink through the emptiness of air
Floor's indifference takes my fall and offers me pain
My breath escapes like a cat fleeing a burning building
In my skull, silence explodes!
I strain my ear to pick up the sound of concern
But activity has no time for me
I seek a voice to state my case
But my vocal chord strangles my cause
All these gets filed away in my memory
Which is already an overflowing archive of pain and hurt
I lie befuddled as everyone walks and talks
My prostrate form becoming a pipe through which resentment and bitterness course
I grumble that my life is a sweaty and screaming nightmare
Light fades as my thoughts take a walk on the shadowed track of despair
I lose my footing...on reason...on joy
Depression ambushes and coshes my head
I fall unconscious: coldness and numbness blanketing me
Happiness is not cold enough to revive me
I wake up later and unwind memories reel
I make a movie screen out of air
It ripples with images of the past
And reflects grotesque shadows of the future
My vision is so clouded
It's rainy season in my head
To control the flood, I grab a pen and write
Punctuating each line with a sigh
My bones are rickety furniture
They bear my weight with complaining creaks
In a crowded world
I manage to feel alone
Caged by fears, released by tears
I muse that if it was up to me, I wouldn't live
I would decide that it was easier to just leave
There are those who have it better
And those who have it worse
Neither better nor worse
I stand in twilight zone
Poetry by Alfred Iwerebor
Read 742 times
Written on 2006-09-11 at 21:37
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Twilight Zone
My strength failingI clutch for support as I sink through the emptiness of air
Floor's indifference takes my fall and offers me pain
My breath escapes like a cat fleeing a burning building
In my skull, silence explodes!
I strain my ear to pick up the sound of concern
But activity has no time for me
I seek a voice to state my case
But my vocal chord strangles my cause
All these gets filed away in my memory
Which is already an overflowing archive of pain and hurt
I lie befuddled as everyone walks and talks
My prostrate form becoming a pipe through which resentment and bitterness course
I grumble that my life is a sweaty and screaming nightmare
Light fades as my thoughts take a walk on the shadowed track of despair
I lose my footing...on reason...on joy
Depression ambushes and coshes my head
I fall unconscious: coldness and numbness blanketing me
Happiness is not cold enough to revive me
I wake up later and unwind memories reel
I make a movie screen out of air
It ripples with images of the past
And reflects grotesque shadows of the future
My vision is so clouded
It's rainy season in my head
To control the flood, I grab a pen and write
Punctuating each line with a sigh
My bones are rickety furniture
They bear my weight with complaining creaks
In a crowded world
I manage to feel alone
Caged by fears, released by tears
I muse that if it was up to me, I wouldn't live
I would decide that it was easier to just leave
There are those who have it better
And those who have it worse
Neither better nor worse
I stand in twilight zone
Poetry by Alfred Iwerebor
Read 742 times
Written on 2006-09-11 at 21:37
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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