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
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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