Hide

I take the clock from the wall

this item doesn’t do me any good,

it constantly reminds me

of the time spent using words I never understood.

I take the tv from its stand

this item, such a waste of time,

the people so beautiful in full colour

but just never will be mine.

I take out the sofas and chairs

comfort, well, it’s just not on my side,

when all I can do is sit in this chair

feeling I need a corner, a crevice, to hide.

This poem is from the collection 'Broken Doll'- bit.ly/brokendollmt