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I did this as an Image Exercise to attempt to create images through words in Poetry. |
I am at a loss, in the night I stand beneath the lonely street lamp, a spot light declaring my fear like my number in line. People supposedly all around, their two eyes to my one body, double against my skin. Ten fingers to two hands push me back into the dark, away from vision, and I fall back to the closing of my eyes. I feel the ground as my bed and the wind as my blanket. Free from the world, yet chained to those atop of it, a haggard dog unwilling to walk. They pull me along, the smell of dirt in my nose, but halted by my green lungs. I stretch out along the wall, butted against the floor as the world turns beneath my cold belly. Flipped to my back by the falling rain, the flood of salty words spoken by masters of the mind, know-it-all's of the world, the giant geniuses that lack the power to do. They speak to my ears, inward to the rattled cage with the metal fence, black and zig-zagged. Looking outward from the thought. I regret my station, though my open mouth is as quiet as my quivering lip. Scared, I'd say, but there is nothing left but the last star winking in the sky, just beyond my spot under the light of the street lamp. |