The Back Door
Use the back door in my head to let yourself out.
What with this filling my head with rubbish all about.
I don’t need it? I want a simple life please
easy thoughts like the softness of a feather in a breeze.
You barge in loud with borrowed fear,
dragging scraps I do not hold dear.
Old gossip ringing in my ear,
as if confusion should live here.
My thoughts are not your dumping ground,
not every echo makes a sound.
You pace in circles round and round,
spilling dirt you think profound.
There is a stair behind my eyes,
it does not bend for small disguise.
It rises clean where clarity lies,
far from your tangled alibis.
Take every rumour, every lie,
every reason you amplify.
Turn from the door, do not ask why,
just let the restless nonsense die.
Use the back door inmy head to let yourself out.
Leave nothing of your cluttered doubt.
Close it firm as you step about,
and keep your rubbish from my route.
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About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of 10. With pen in hand, I wander the realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture you ❤️#Marie381UkWrites
Keep reading
More stories from Marie381Uk and writers in Poets and other communities.
Staying sane in the insane world.
”It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” Jiddu Krishnamurti This quote has been one of my favourites since the moment I first laid my eyes on it. To me, it cuts right through the fog of the illusion of normality that permeates our lives. And since I am someone who has never felt (well) adjusted to this society, Krishnamurti’s words gifted me with the realisation that there isn’t anything inherently wrong with me.
By Eva Smitte4 days ago in Humans
Comments (3)
Great poem with the strongest opening line, Marie!
That is using your head! Great work!
What a thought! Cerebral.