White WallsA Poem by MCSA dark studio where one comes to sit when the old demons come to visit and the haunting starts anew the silent white walls are just there they do not embrace or offer comfort tears are shed and pool briefly on clasped hands as frenzied thoughts spin outward toward the silent white walls a chill is perceived as dark eyes scan the surroundings brushes sit clean and untouched jars of colours sit in neat rows as white glaring canvas stares back and the icy fingers of anxiety traces the vertebrae of a stiff erect back fresh hot tears run with the silent question hanging in the air impatiently asking how did we end up
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3 Reviews Added on March 18, 2015 Last Updated on March 18, 2015 Author |