Friday, June 3, 2011


Vision goes blurry, the dream has begun.
A faceless man approaches and takes my hand.
Gently tugging, leading to the door.
The exit sign flickers in the background.
Stopped in the hallway, looking back.
Once turned around the rain starts to fall... inside.
A picture hard to make out pass the intense rain drops.
What looks like paper dolls.... melting in the storm.
Kisses are blown in their direction, as they float away.
Once again the man pulls in his direction.
Following... with extreme caution.
The door is pushed open,
But there is no light showing what lies behind.
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Anonymous said...

um, wow. Once again it's all open for interpretation but sounds to me like death. It reminds me a little of the movie What Dreams May Come, but only cuz you can't see his face and the man is a guide to the afterlife. At least that's how I see things. Someone else may take away something totally different. Love it as always. :)

Eileen... to the right. said...

Yea I guess I can see that. Alot of my poems can relate to death.... or not literal death but the end of Something. An unknown future. Thank you... again