back alley
left right
escaping from
the victorian style homes
i was raised
cobblestone gray
puddles filled within.
see fractured reflections
avoid its glance
and follow the steps
down a wayworn door
reeking of mold
and dominated
by overgrown
foliage.
hinges crack open
as i'm faced
with no lights
except for the
gray tones
that break through
untouched windows.
a truly
lifeless
place.
blank canvas's
and dried paint
lean upon the faded brick,
various pots and pans
strung about
with nothing to fill.
cobwebs in the corner
a slow drip on stone floor
and somehow
i'm not frightened at all.
instead
i choose to cover myself
and fall asleep under layers
of the old and abandoned.
Author notes
think of an old art studio in england or something. thats how i picture myself.
A contest entry
- Yourself (or the love of your life) as a facade of a building by chills.
450 points, ended March 18, 2008, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
how could i improve this?
Comments
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I loved you author notes almost as much as the work itself. This is just getting into how you feel about yourself and what you need to be. Excellent. Thank you.
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