Sunday, February 6, 2011

Life: Mad HOUSE


Alone :: Life :: Scary


Gates closed
Freedom no longer 
Deeper within 
Weaker, not stronger


Aristo Dos Santos
CuPid Poetry

“For Those You Love and Adore”

Mad House....

I press against its walls while they beat against me, in its rooms full of empty I try to find a friend away from crowds deep within myself. Windows of doubt compliment these troublesome walls, I close my eyes blinding them through dreams deriving from a freedom sense. Flickering lights, I stand alone in living rooms once shared by broken families, abusive words stain its carpets. Markings on doorways measurements of low self esteems remaining never tall, I trip over adversity hitting my forehead on the dreadful confucious coffee table spilling my positive thoughts splashing the wooden floors wet. I struggle rest my head, laying on concrete couches as I badly ache out of comfort. The tea cattle sprouts, further sounding swear words looking to drench quite personnels with loud vulgar attitudes. 

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