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Poem

The solemnity of my peace lays, in a room of pure white
At the corner, seating wide-eyed in a room full of nothing in sight
As it always is, it has a flaw
The “solemn peace” is just a mask drawn

Bounded I am by this jacket
I can do nothing at all but be quiet
As quiet define peace and solemnity 
Yet why do I feel disturbed so greatly?

For there is chaos in my reverie
And suspicion in my war's serenity 
Quiet thought run rampant in mind
As nightmares trespass my reality

Sitting with wide staring eyes, body rocking back and forth 
Silent laughing lips, wide smile and yellow teeth
Hair long and black swaying with the still air
At the sight of me, would you dare help?

Guard always up, never waver
Still seating wide-eyed since forever
I am mad, they say, always will
Bounded by this jacket of the madman, still 

Welcome to the Solemnity of my peace

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