Anna Hopper Poet Free verse

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

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Robert Lindley September 21, 2015 at 9:55 PM Once I too was a mad poet but less so now. Ok, maybe I still am but I try to not let it show.. VERY FINE AND CREATIVE POEM. A7

Ilene Bauer September 21, 2015 at 4:05 PM excellent! i love your use of rhyme and how quickly this poem moves. well done...