The hall way
By WILLIAM MCNEAR
Poem of an outsider
The hall way, so quiet, walking slow makes my heart beat cause a riot.
I can hear my blood flow through my ear.
I am walking very slow, my self-esteem is low.
There is nothing but door after door, this is something that i adore
I walk with an idea that i hate myself, with this image of me being an old forgotten journal on a bookshelf.
I feel watched by all the peep-hole's, so i have a desire to be social and look through everybody's key-hole's.
I see myself having feeling's being insightful, about all the thing's i could change and that should not be frightful.
It is funny to me, how this will away's be.
through out the hall i hear
"Fuck you, you have no clue, would you like another drink?, go wash your fucking hand's in the bathroom sink."
To think behind all these door's is a life, i might as well take mine away with a knife.
For all these people have fear that is shown, and it is shown when they lock their door's because of fear of the unknown.
© Copyright 2016 william mcnear. All rights reserved.
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