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I eat, I sleep, I laugh, I grow. I wait, I dream, I hope. I smile with teeth. I commute, I walk with determination-- sometimes with defeat. I'm shy, boisterous, cunning, deliberate. I write, I enjoy, I sing, I clap. I shake, I cry, I confuse my own self. I love, I share, I absorb it all.

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October 13, 2011
in poetry being king being lonely emptiness
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king of nowhere

I sit alone on my throne.

The birds don’t sing for me.

They sit outside,

away from sight.

Where else would they be?

The floor creaks when I walk by the empty rooms.

Here, only dust flies

when I make the slightest move.

And time, I guess.

It sits with me while I stare blankly ahead.

A confession (I confess): I’m no poet.

I don’t dream with colours.

I don’t know how to tell time.

And red isn’t easy on the eyes.

-HC

Notes:

  1. sanssoucitonight posted this