Requiem of Madness

He stands by the window
Peering outside
Through a small hole
Made by him

Watching, waiting..contemplating

Pulling at his hair
Shaky, liver-spotted hands
And dirty fingernails
Hearing the roots rip out
He screams in laughter

Voices are haunting him
Telling him to do the most
Absurd things

Paint all of your walls
Midnight Blue
Carve rainbows
Into your kitchen floor

Throw your plates
Against that old,
Antique birdcage
( the bird left long ago)

And he does all this
With glee
Not feeling
The madness
Taking it's toll

A faint song can be heard
( if you dare stand close enough)
Eminating from his mind..
His very soul
I think it might be Beethoven's 9th
The maestro plays on

Poetry by Teala
Read 922 times
Written on 2007-01-12 at 01:23

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Amanda K
that's something special to think about and write. keep it up.

all the best,

Sandy Hiss
Wow, what a melancholic, twisted write. It's sad to know that there are people afflicted like this in the world.

very beautiful text
it makes me feel it
thanx teala

Rob Graber
Geez, I was thinking this was pretty good, except someone so far gone would scarcely have a girlfriend... Then I notice this was from D.D. Michael's comment! The sad truth is even stranger than the poet's imagination! Neat text!
PS: Line 26 wants "its"; line 29, "emanating."

D.D. Michaels
Excellent poem, Teala. This reminds me of someone I know who was suffering from temporary drug-induced psychosis, who vandalized his own house by spray painting his picket fence with the words, " I Don't Care About Mars!' and 'Beware Of Frog', in cobalt-blue paint. Needless to say, his girlfriend wasn't too pleased when she returned from her weekend vacation. Anyway, I really admire your poetic style, which is very original and uiniquely your own.

Keep up the wonderful work,
D.D. Michaels