Social DisorderA Poem by CourtneyLongingly looking out through the pane, the rain has fallen, not another drip. A snip of a string from cloud to ground, yet bound am I to my leather seat. The pounding of precipitation lingers in my ears. I peer out at the new light with a grudge. The rain my reason for avoiding proffered hands, but sans the drear, what will the excuse be? A black bell jar keeps my spark from igniting; No matter how inviting the sun may be, their curiosity keeps my familiar seat warm. They swarm all over like bees on attack. One breaks away; my eyes circle with his flight. From right and around, he lands at my door. The ding of my doorbell zaps a shudder down my spine; the blinds free-fall like an elevator plunging to its death. Silent and shaking, I hold my breath and close my eyes 'til the ringing dies; I push up a slat and peek. Feathers flutter just outside my window, mocking me. These insecurities control my every move, day to day. Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow will come, but the sun will shine without me; never see my face. This petty pace of life inside these four blank walls creeps and crawls to the last syllable of time.
© 2009 CourtneyAuthor's Note
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10 Reviews Added on March 12, 2009 Last Updated on May 11, 2009 |

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