You have 4 free member-only stories remaining for the month. Subscribe now for unlimited access

In My Room

In my room there is a wall, 

Upon which the shadows play. 

A dream catcher hangs crossed by shadow lines 

Of open blinds. 

Created by faint street lights, 

Only to be shattered by streaking headlights. 

Across the lines leaves dance and quiver, 

Sending a dark shiver 

Through the wall on which the shadows stay. 

In my room there is a wall 

A wall where the shadows play. 

Recommend0 Simily SnapsPublished in All Stories, Poetry