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Man In My Storm
May 13, 2022
Boom
Clack
I was awoken to a pitch-black room
I thought I left my TV on?
Did I forget to turn on my night light?
The lightning lit up my window.
I peeked my curious eyes,
through the grey blinds
Boom
Clack
A stranger in Black turned to me.
His black trench coat blew violently.
What is he doing in my storm?
Boom
Clack
The man opened his arms,
And screamed,
An unknown language.
I understood every word he said.
Boom
Clack
I blinked and he was gone.
The power was back on.
The rain fell lighter
And I grew tired
I slipped into bed
And rested my head
And forgot every word he said
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Man In My Storm is a different kind of poem of mine. It is supposed to show how dreams are. The speaker has a dream of a man; the man tells her something. She understands what he says in the dream because it's a dream. When the speaker is no longer dreaming she forgets every word he says. That's how dreams are. Well, to me. They are just so random and mysterious. Dreams can never really be solved or explained