this place is haunted
safe in my bedroom
these walls are my tomb
they talk back to me
an echo chamber
repeat the routine
repressed and pressed down
peculiar poems pondering psychological phenomena (and other perplexities)
this place is haunted
safe in my bedroom
these walls are my tomb
they talk back to me
an echo chamber
repeat the routine
repressed and pressed down
In a mauve mood
Mellow kind of mind
Just passing time
Pass the purple paled
Inhaled, impaled
Just sailed away
Swayed to the heavens
he was a good guy
‘til we lost him forever
he fell face first
into his cell phone
now he’s just
another digital drone