He so looks forward to the end of the day
The only time his self loathing thoughts are put at bay
He’ll undress, climb into a comfy bed and just lay
His mind is suddenly silenced, no more cruel words left to say
He’ll close his eyes, relax, drift off and just dream
It’s then and only then that his eyes no longer stream
During the day his own constant criticism makes him want to scream
Mediocre, unworthy, worthless; no self esteem
But now it’s night time and he finds refuge in his bed
Switched on the mute button to all the voices in his head
But sometimes they find volume and into his head will creep
The notion that it would all be better if he just stayed asleep
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Suzette Annan
A Journalism and Sociology graduate living in London. By graduate I mean broke, penniless customer service assistant struggling to find real work. I find being creative a means of escapism; writing, drawing, painting and sewing all make me happy.
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1 comment
Art Feministe says:
Mar 5, 2012
I enjoyed the pace of this poem and the images it conjured
Thankyou x