I look out of my window to see that a curtain of darkness has covered the view. I can only see the faint black outlines of buildings. Shadows are everywhere, following people and cars, or just standing next to houses. Trees look like people, black as evil. An ebony black cat strolls around, its eyes glowing. There is a gloom around the town, nothing moves, as if the world had stood still.

I walk outside. Cars appear out of the gloom and murk. Back inside I fall asleep into a black, blank world, where I am unaware of anything, oblivion. In the morning the black night falls asleep, only to be woken by the yawns of the white day

I’ve just found this, a poem I wrote a little while ago. 28th April 1983 to be precise. I was, it is far to say, pretty fucking miserable at times when I was a kid.








2 responses to “Black”

  1. The Smiling Assassin Avatar

    I’m sure I’d have been writing something along those lines while I was at secondary school, that if I wasn’t picturing classmates faces on characters in Goldeneye and putting 1000s of bullets in each one.

    I was quite a stable teenager, you understand.

  2. 200factoryfarmedcamels Avatar

    Alone in Darkness

    the night falls with a silent sigh, fearful are we.
    the salvation for which you pine
    flares once, then dies,
    devoured by the all-encompassing dark.
    all hope must sicken and die.

    your heart desires no more.
    how could you cause such hurt?
    our dark thoughts surround us, crying,
    save us from ourselves.

    yes, you too can have all the teenage angst without the hours spent chewing the end of a black black pen in your black black room with the Goth-o-Matic Poetry Generator