Get Your Premium Membership

Her Madness

she loves to dance in bedlam
to the beat the shadows throw
in a gown of sequin macabre
since her mind left home

where webs of  deceit hang from chandlers
and madness is the party game
blowing the horns of something's wrong
in an eerie game of charades  

the cook that's in her kitchen
bakes a don't dare go there souffle
though she dips her fingers in it
through out her darken days

you may take the chance in joining her in dance
on this the razors edge
when all is said and the day has bled
she pulls the sheets of madness up on her bed

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 6/3/2016 7:26:00 PM
Whoa there Mike, that was a deep one! Interesting one about mental illness!:)
Login to Reply

Book: Reflection on the Important Things