Closet
#1 of Poetry
one of my old OLD poems...
I stare into the darkness,
that is the life ridden void of my closet,
and though I cannot see what lies within,
I can see what lies within.
Not within the closet, no.
For that which I am blind to. But within my own self, I can see within.
For I am like the closet.
The lifeless dark closet.
I am something that hides within. I am something that hides in a darkness so fondly known.
And I hide secrets.
I hide many things of value.
I protect them with doors, like a closet. I protect them with the door that is my heart.
I am the closet, for I am dark, hidden, protective of treasures, and I am closed.