There is a vent inside my prison
beside the right side of my bed
and through it I discuss my mind's reflections
It's a furnace for my emotions of coal
fueling the fire and rage bottled inside
whisking off my steam to some unknown land
It's a cup and string through space and dimension
connecting me to an ear that may care to listen
listen to the internal ramblings of a human soul
I talk to myself, to this imaginary friend that steals my problems away
carries them off to some alien world, where they will never find it's way back
And tell of my daily life just before bed
The Art Comet is a poetry and literature blog by Anthony Souls. Read quotes, haiku, poetry, commentaries, and more!
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