Fantasy Street. Poem by G.S Ortiz

It's a cloudy night as I wander down the streets of an already dark and dismal existence.

No more childish fantasies of rainbows and unicorns.

It's been a longtime since I indulged in such fantasies.

I never had sunshine on my cloudy days.

I don't know why I keep to myself. Why do some people want to take me away.

Could it be the state of my mental health?

So what if I like to stay alone in my house with memories of my childhood.

I love it when those feelings come over me.

Who are you to judge or disagree.
Sometimes I feel that this world just doesn't work for me.

I guess not everyone can be on top.

What is the sound of poverty I wonder.

Is it a melancholy tune that sets the tone.

Is it an upbeat tempo something to dance to.

This world is shying away from me at times.

Can someone just look outside and tell me what they see?

Someone is knocking at my door.

The sound reminds me of the forest in my dreams for some reason, so I panic.

My heart begins to beat faster as I run and hide turning off the lights all around my house.

I make no sound as I retreat to the back rooms.

I escape down dark alleys that lead to empty streets.

I travel to places that friends and family could only imagine, if only they could stop pretending.

G.S. Ortiz