-My Room I am in a room, it is small, dark, quiet I sit by the window looking out at the seasons Leaves dance in the wind and fade into blended colours on the earth The pane of glass is cold, moist, secure. I touch it I see beings walk by in their lives, their dreams but I can't hear their footsteps I dream that I am one of them, beautiful, happy There I am going by, successful and attractive The steady stream of traffic jars me from my zones It would be easy to be someone else other than whom I am, whom I have become I want to be new as if I am just beginning The wind taps at the window, my eyes greet the ghosts it mimics I remember now where I was I sit, the chair is sturdy and yet fragile Like me The clock counts off my wasted dreams, wasted space Sitting here I can see the ceiling, the floor, it is so dark Closing in on my mind it hurts my brain to know that I make mistakes I have flaws, I sit and count them, over and over This room is like so many rooms, but the vibrations are unique Sitting here, I am in a room. My room Emmett Patrick Finnegan
Reason for writing:
I wrote a series of poems to help me cope with losing someone
I loved very much, and still do but they are with someone else now
and don't miss me as much as I do them
This poem reflects my thoughts on a day alone, like many days
and how I am feeling closed in with my thoughts and feelings
Thanks for reading my poem
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View more poems by Emmett Patrick Finnegan/Sag.