The Dark Box

No fear.

Forlorn. 

The flashing screen

No gleam,

only the small screen.

Just us,

in this frigid,

tragic,

dingy box.

With a feathered cushion, 

plunk my head on it.

With a large cover,

atop my misused physique,

to secrete me from the frosty atmosphere.

Snoozing,

just so I don't drown in

angry assessments

of the bygone days.

Author's Note

Any comments appreciated !

Reviews

[Arundass TP]

Beautiful poem. Enjoyed reading 👍

[lessa (kenzie)]

I love this write, like the last part of it the most. Really enjoyed this