Gut feeling

The sun is bright everything's alright, yet something's in the air

A sense of gloom, impending doom, all I can do is sit and stare

To be formal everything's quite normal, can't put my finger on a thing

But I can't help but feel something unreal that the future will bring

A sense of dread fills my head, I sit on sharp pins

A dead sensation fills creation even though spring has taken my sins

Prescience, precognition, a feeling, recognition, something is out of place

Something bent, a pressure with no vent, a black hole without grace

Buried deep where I can keep it out of view

Garbage smells and a tale tells of an odor one can't subdue

Things from the past layers amassed raise from the grave

A haunting ghost, a whipping post for thoughts I forgave

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Seeing some internal rhyme around these here parts lately. Very clever use of it gives a good effect to the mood of poems...and this one creates something strange, eerie..."the haunting ghost, a whipping post."

Well done.

[Soren]

Thank you so much for your review of this piece and for your kind and encouraging comments they are deeply appreciated