The hall is narrow
The ceiling falling down
My way to the living room
Can’t be found.
A method of cooking fills
Mouldy kitchen air
Where cabinets hang
Feeling no loving care.
Nothing to clean away
Night terrors experienced
In a cluttered bedroom
Where sleep is not
Usually assumed.
Another way, another day
Maybe tomorrow will be perfect
Making this just a dream
I dreamed yesterday.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2018
It’s a great verse!
Thank you so much. When I’m down and wondering if anyone is reading my work, your comments come and lift me up. Thank so much.
Patrice: I get that feeling about my posts, too– blogging can feel very lonesome sometimes. 🙂
It can can’t it. But it also breathes life into something, somewhere that fulfils an unexplained need. If that makes sense 😀
Perfect sense. And, self expression – even when it seems to ring out into nothing but a vacuum, always feels better than holding it in. 🙂