Dusty Boxes.

August 6, 2011
I open the door.
I enter the dark musty room.
I scream. I scream. I scream.
I search for her, I search.
I see dusty boxes, and moldy bookshelves.
I'm still searching. I can't find her.
She's nowhere to be found.
I see a light, a little light.
I see a small doorway, With broken locks and bolts.
I crawl threw the tiny door.
I enter a new world.
A world of magic and mistakes.
A world or tragic and dreams.
I spot her! I see her!
I scream. I scream. I scream.
This world is hers.
She's the creator.
I entered her mind,
This is just a little kids imagination.
I was tricked! I was fooled.
I drift back to reality; I drift back into sane time.
I'm back to my mind. I ponder thoughts.
Wonder if she was me.
Could this be real?
I'm trying to make sense of it, I want my childhood back.
Its locked away, locked away.
In a tiny bright room,
With bolts and chains on the door.
Its hidden behind the moldy books, and dusty boxes.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback