Closed eyes <br />In a room <br />Using the objects <br />To describe who I am <br /> <br />Air blowing in my face <br />I imagine the fans motor <br />being my heart beat pace <br /> <br />The light in the room <br />Is broke <br />my eyes are close <br />The dark represents <br />Me being lost in my own <br />Life's space <br /> <br />The fan is blowing <br />The lights are off <br />The room is pitch black <br />All i hear is the fans motor <br />Maybe its just <br />My heart beating <br /> <br />The windows are closed <br />This means my <br />Opportunities are limited <br />To just this place <br /> <br />I stumble to a bed <br />Thats hard <br />Then i realize <br />I made this life <br />Now I must lay <br /> <br />There are no sheets on the bed <br />So Chills are sent to spine <br />Representing this cold life of mines <br /> <br />A clock ticking <br />interupts my shivering spine <br />Just to remind me of time <br />The tic of each second <br />Tells me that time never stops <br />It just flys <br /> <br />Me in this room <br />Tells me one thing <br />Life outside this room <br />Continues even when <br />You die<br /><br />Jaycee Wilkerson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-room-of-metaphores/
