Darkroom Is My Sweet Home Poem by janice jolan

Life is hard,
I get tired.
I am rich, yet suffer scarce.
I am happy, yet, i cant smile.
To my friends, i can't deny.
Even white lies, i can't hide.

My mind spin me around,
Taking my heart along.
I'm losing my control,
I went into seclusion.

I stayed in the darkroom,
Considered as my sweet home.
Longing for direction
Nor a comfort zone.

As storm engulf me,
my solitary tales remains to me,
to my soul, to my world.
I am aware to my own solitude.