Thursday, December 11, 2008

Sitting in an Empty Room

Sitting in an empty room,
Just me, alone, in hollow gloom.

I focused on what wasn’t there.
I rose, and saw an empty chair.
I sat back down. An empty floor.
No one knocking at the door.

You focus on the empty things,
The noise the silence always brings,
To see the world for what it’s not,
To wonder about things forgot.

An empty room, an empty heart,
I snapped, and tore the place apart.


Ionafey said...

great use of language here, and you managed to tell a story with a beginning, middle and end. I liked the rhyme scheme and the meter, too. Two lines in the first quatrain away from a sonnet, I believe?

Great work!

Inkpot said...

Isn't it funny how we often focus on what isn't there than what is? I can identify with this poem a lot.

Malice Blackheart said...

Though I like this poem the most, it took me the least time to post. Hey, that rhymed...