The Mad Poet

Hiding behind words Slowly losing grip Lost inside a book A bitter sweet trip Danger lurks outside Walls are closing in Evil birds in flight Sanity, paper thin The whispers echo Unapologetic reminders Of neighbor's gossip Persistent little spiders Crawling, climbing, chewing Gnawing away at my brain Tickling my skin Driving me insane The door becomes further More heavy, the space between Horizontal gravity Thick enough to be seen My mirror must be warped I can't see my reflection A strange person mocking me With a pale and aged complexion My very existence I often contemplate Am I lost inside a dream Myself and I debate