Wednesday, October 06, 2004

He sits in darkness
trying to ignore some of what he hears.
They never shut up
and when the do it is not He who enjoys the silence.
At those times He is gone,
lost somewhere within himself perhaps.
And the thoughts flood his mind,
because he knows they are out there...
just waiting for their chance.
Walking a thin line at times ,
between reality and total insanity,
or so they say.
But what do they know anyways.
Tired of all the games the thought comes back,
the same thought that is never far away...
smoking cold steel.
But this time it is pushed aside,
thrown back into the corners of his mind to wait.
Beats his head on the desk,
grasping at the hope that perhaps that may help.
But of course it does not...Still screaming...Taunting.
Shadows move , out of the corner of his eye.
He sees them, knows they are there.
No use in turning to look , because they always elude sight.
disappearing into the shadows.....Watching....Waiting.


Breeze said...

wonderful poem bret as usual. wanted to say hi since i don't see you online much lately, and send my love. miss you, hope your ok.

Jessica said...

I concur with Breeze, great poem, but you haven't been around much lately, is all OK?