Poem without an End
1-26-04 to f
It all started with a thought from a mind that was filled with dreams, Constant visions with some confusing and some amusing and of wonderful things,
So there he sat in his black high back comfy chair rubbing his mind with the words people wanted to hear,
After burning the midnight oil his pen hit the paper then back it recoiled, the more he put on writing a good piece the less that came to his head where there use to be a feast,
He jumped to his feet, he couldnt stand the feeling of nothing to write so he glanced across the room at objects in site,
But the objects had no meaning, no special origin did they come from, it was just stuff that he was seeing,
After a while he just sat back down but this time on the edge of his bed, an old oak headboard and intricate carvings, hard mattress and a pillow for his head, Hmmm, I just gotta get back to me, put the pen to the paper and write freely, I could do this as Ive done many times before, Ill start writing about my front door
Ok "here goes", he said as he looked at the door and it starts like this.......
My Door Jiggle, jiggle, a noise filled the room. Jiggle, jiggle there it went again. It seemed to come from the front door, but I was'nt expecting a freind. "Im comming I yelled out", I jumped out of the chair walked across the floor and with tired legs I managed to get to the door. "Who is it I asked", but there was no reply. Looking down the empty cooridor no one ccould be seen. So with a dissappointed sigh,,went back in my apartment again.