temporary death

As the leaves will begin to turn

burnt, golden, and browned,

I begin to feel cold in my soul

watching them spill to the ground.

I will soon be playing my roll

in this seemingly temporary death

the claws of desolation grab hold

a separation from my breath.

The wildlife soon disappears

retreating to their shelter,

with their families in the warmth

they’ll wait out winters weather.

This is where my mind runs rabid

assessing why I hide from others,

I retreat back inside my dark hole

not finding any comfort in numbers.

Appearing social as could be

when forced into an assignment,

all the reason more to be granted

a warrant of my confinement.

Please just leave me be

safe and sound in my enclosure,

I really don’t have the answers,

If I did, then I’d invite you all over…



©2018 http://www.whatsinsideamadmanshat.com


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