deepundergroundpoetry.com
Alone with Myself.
11/2/12
Phobia, in the dark it creeps in.
How quick the sensation turns from flying to crashing.
It's a wonder how you're alive, when you can't leave.
Trapped inside not knowing how long it will last.
Phobia, in the dark it creeps in.
How quick the sensation turns from flying to crashing.
It's a wonder how you're alive, when you can't leave.
Trapped inside not knowing how long it will last.
Published 14th Jan 2013
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Anonymous
14th Jan 2013 8:44am
Cool poem, R S.
Love the brevity in style.
Last line really sends home the message of utter futility.
Good on you :-)
Do keep penning! Smile on....
Cheers
Tidespotter
Ps. The phobia may creep in...in the darkness, but it's always been there, hey....?
Love the brevity in style.
Last line really sends home the message of utter futility.
Good on you :-)
Do keep penning! Smile on....
Cheers
Tidespotter
Ps. The phobia may creep in...in the darkness, but it's always been there, hey....?
14th Jan 2013 9:18am
Thank you, I'm glad you liked it :)
(P.S.S. Perhaps it has always been there. Most are just too ignorant to acknowledge its presence.)
(P.S.S. Perhaps it has always been there. Most are just too ignorant to acknowledge its presence.)
