A Room Of Metaphores Poem by Jaycee Wilkerson

Closed eyes
In a room
Using the objects
To describe who I am

Air blowing in my face
I imagine the fans motor
being my heart beat pace

The light in the room
Is broke
my eyes are close
The dark represents
Me being lost in my own
Life's space

The fan is blowing
The lights are off
The room is pitch black
All i hear is the fans motor
Maybe its just
My heart beating

The windows are closed
This means my
Opportunities are limited
To just this place

I stumble to a bed
Thats hard
Then i realize
I made this life
Now I must lay

There are no sheets on the bed
So Chills are sent to spine
Representing this cold life of mines

A clock ticking
interupts my shivering spine
Just to remind me of time
The tic of each second
Tells me that time never stops
It just flys

Me in this room
Tells me one thing
Life outside this room
Continues even when
You die