What the hell is poery?

A poem I wrote. Cheers.

Inside

 

He crept into my dreams

With the whisper of a dripping faucet

Overflowing the bathtub

And drenching my unconscious state.

The dream pictures become blurred-

And I do not see him

I never do-

He is Neither the protagonist

Nor the antagonist

Only a figure in the corner-

swallowed up in sepia tones

The credits never show his name

And at the end of the night I awake with applause ringing in my ears

“I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy”

The familiar tune plays in my head.

On the Ninth Thursday,

I am at the train station.

I grab my suitcases-

And race towards nothing.

My reflection is trapped in the cold doors, but they are all the same.

I notice Him at the end of the platform

Clutching a bag I must have forgotten

The train pulls out of the station

Hands shaking, he holds up a sign written in purple crayon

“On the outside looking in”