It’s a Jungle in Here

Living with animals

Poetry December 9, 2007



    These eyes are empty

So is this home

Furniture dusty

I am alone

The kitchen is quiet

No electrical hum

There is no time

I am no one

The fridge is empty

No food in sight

Whole house is dark

There is no light

The windows are covered

With dust and with time

Why am I here?

Goodness or slime?

This life is pointless

Every thought filled with strife

What’s that in the corner?

The hilt of a knife

What if I did this?

Would it be fair?

Who would mourn me?

Would anyone care?

I raise it to face me

My life’s rejection

I see someone strange there

It is my reflection


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