A Dark Poem Poem by James Smith

Don't be upset, surprised, disgusted
By my absence
I'm making a short descent to the dark land,
I think you know how that place feels,
Have been there by your own route.
How the windows there will slowly close
While heavy curtains in some dusty brocade
Draw themselves together and remain shut.
A stifling place but cold and bleak as well.
Where there's
No joy but fear and the expectation of worse
The mind a dull copper plate on which are etched
The remembered failures of an unworthy life
And all the old remembered hurts sting
With a stronger venom, on skin made taut
And paper thin by their perennial erosion.
Rooms for all sorts down there, spacious one might say
Four thick walls to every room but no doors visible.
'Where is this place? ' someone may ask
'Why don't you know? , It's just behind my smile'.