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My Abode


By Christian LeePublished 5 months ago Updated 4 months ago 1 min read
My Abode
Photo by Marcel Strauß on Unsplash

Chaos in my abode;

Jealousy mates with rage.

Music never asked for voice.

The chair is senseless.

Color has no friends.

Water is as mature an estuary.


Motioned to a glass of H₂Oh

Hue has no clue what I see;

The chair could crack…no wounds to feel.

It is this Song to hold

Because my rage ‘gainst the Orb:


Chaos in my abode!

performance poetryMental Healthart

About the Creator

Christian Lee

My nom de plume is Lee Arachnid; think: spider-poet. Here you will find non-fiction and poetry. I interweave elements of nature and my personal experience into uniquely crafted stories. I love idleness, Felidae, literature, and soundscapes.

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Comments (2)

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  • Anna 5 months ago

    Wow this is just soo true! Incredible poem! I love it!🥰🫶

  • Muhammad Shaheer5 months ago

    Color has no friend. What a fact! Christian Lee! I love your words as they are so touching. Warm Wishes. You can read my poems.

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