Private Museum


The interior is a scary place
with hallways that seem
to go on forever and doors
behind which there are 
darkened or half lit rooms 
with nothing inside except
eyes that watch you 
out of slits in face masks 
hung upon the wall.
There are whispers creeping
along corridors and out
on the far edges of hearing,
the sound of someone 
calling. This place has 
no windows just thin, 
clenched threads of light
hanging down from cracks
in the ceilings and a pale
glow crawling out from under 
the bottom of a locked door.
There are no exits 
in private museums.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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M  Avatar
August 10, 2025 at 1:43 AM
How very cleverly, creatively and beautifully you describe depression in this poem Paul….l felt it and related, Amazing poem my friend….Debx
Willason Avatar
August 17, 2025 at 9:27 PM
Thanks Deb. Entry price is a bit steep so best avoided. I tried the Art Gallery...a big mural of 'The Scream' greeted me so I gave it a miss. Many thanks Deb for your thoughtful and sensitive comments my friend. Take care..
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