deepundergroundpoetry.com
Invisible Man
He sits in the middle of the street,
Waiting for a car to come by.
They all swerve just by him,
He feels the rush of wind as they tunnel past.
He sits in empty restaurant booths,
No one comes to take his order.
Loudly scratching his name into the tables,
Hoping someone will read it.
He walks alone in the park,
But only the dogs and birds turn their heads to him.
He screams in the unchained openness,
Heard and unnoticed.
He is scrawled in dull pencil,
Glowing dark and fading slowly.
Unable to stay still,
He runs towards something he can’t get away from.
Waiting for a car to come by.
They all swerve just by him,
He feels the rush of wind as they tunnel past.
He sits in empty restaurant booths,
No one comes to take his order.
Loudly scratching his name into the tables,
Hoping someone will read it.
He walks alone in the park,
But only the dogs and birds turn their heads to him.
He screams in the unchained openness,
Heard and unnoticed.
He is scrawled in dull pencil,
Glowing dark and fading slowly.
Unable to stay still,
He runs towards something he can’t get away from.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 0
comments 4
reads 148
Commenting Preference:
The author is looking for friendly feedback.