I'm sending out an innocuous request.
May Day! May Day! S.O.S.
You see, I'm in solitary confinement of my mind.
In the dank basement there it's musty and moldy.
The stench makes me putrid.
Yet, sometimes I'm but a mere statue.
Still and stiff, languorous without expression.
The cracks are accumulating, running down the sides.
I fear in time I shall break all together.
If blood ran through these cracks like veins.
Crimson all over, I would change color.
But these hair line fractures are very hard to see.
I don't feel safe here locked away in this museum of sorts.
Put on display, inside the dome, only to be glanced at.
When the final hour strikes and the doors are locked, they come.
Waiting.......waiting in peril and horrid fright.
No matter how impervious these walls, they enter.
They infiltrate the mind like a cancer, taking over.
The visitors, gregarious types, come and go.
But these, rancid types stay and rot the brain away.
I think perhaps, they are here all the time.
I feel their presence surrounding me as the sun beams pour in.
That's when I want to cry out for help.
I have swallowed down plaster so my mouth is forced closed.
It's hardened in place that way, so I must scream in silence.
If you look real close the story is there for the telling.
The keen professor comes and looks, but he doesn't stay.
So day after lonely day it goes on this way.
What's underneath it all; what's inside the hollow frame?
If only he had a chisel and if only he would try.
To no avail, set in plaster, I stand closed off from the real world.
- Boston, Massachusetts, usa
- July 11
- I love writing and nature and psychology.
Young at heart and love to laugh!
MY RECENT POSTS
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January 26, 2015 06:22AM
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January 22, 2015 06:29AM
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