TRAP DOORS OF MY MIND
Sometimes I'v considered,My mind is out of place,
An inspiring intelligence,
That doesn't match my face.
My chest is hurting,
My mind is shouting.
It's something I ignore,
There's a ringing in my ears,
Or is that someone at the door.
Either way I've heard that sound
before, Sometimes when I go to
bed. I hear the ticking off a clock,
Running around somewhere in my head.
Picking up the pieces hiding in
The cobwebs of my mind.
Sweeping all the corners,
To see just what I'd find.
There are many trapdoors,
Inside my broken head.
Leading different directions,
Where my poetry is fed.
I really don't know, What I once knew.
But I'm always thinking of things to do.
Whilst I'm walking this way and that,
If the wind blows anticlockwise.
Instead of the other way around
Would it slow the world down
Won't someone else answer that
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Written on 2026-03-13 at 00:56
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