She Be a Poet – In My Room

I hide in my room from noise I can’t bare to hear,

I close the door, my own company near.

I talk to myself sometimes, is that weird?

Maybe so but who will know.

Solitude it seems is my true friend sometimes,

My choice so no one else to blame.

I hold myself captive, locked away,

My cell is a room full of books and dismay.

To break out would mean I would have to face,

A world which is harsh, I don’t want that embrace.

Time is ticking, the clock is slow,

I wait for the hand that strikes,

To awaken my soul.