Locked
in a flat, a prisoner in my home,
And
whilst I suffer alone, I am prone
To
be mentally harmful to my sad-self
With
my deteriorating mental health.
Ghosts
come out of the closet to glow,
My
reasoning goes out of the window,
Delusions
play their television screens
To
my insane suffering silent screams.
Many
characters emerge
To
sadly violently purge
Aggression
out of me –
A
travesty and tragedy.
I
become so paranoid
Which
makes me loud,
As
I wallow in sorrow
It
becomes tomorrow.
©
Andrew Stevenson 21/03/2017
An edited piece.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew.
I can relate to being alone in my apartment, not a pleasant thing but there is always SOMETHING to be happy about.
ReplyDeleteYvonne.
Greetings Yvonne. Glad you are thinking positively! I wrote this piece years ago. Blessings. Love love, Andrew.
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