Amelia Patterson

Watcher Of Me - Poem by Amelia Patterson

Contemplation consumes me.
I sit here,
In my bathroom,
In the only place
I am not watched.
And yet...
The gnats secretly
Lay against the wall.

The floor...
It's so cold...
The ice welcomes me
Without any promises.
They come closer.

Why do I feel alone,
When I am surrounded
By watchers?

In a pool of people,
I am the one

I'm like a spy
With no mission.
Must I hide?

No one comforts me,
No one,
But this floor
I lay on.

Comments about Watcher Of Me by Amelia Patterson

  • Kim BarneyKim Barney (12/7/2014 2:16:00 PM)

    That cold floor must be uncomfortable.
    Enjoyable poem.

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  • Josh Kazuya (3/16/2012 11:26:00 PM)

    awww i hope you never feel that way ever again (Report)Reply

    1 person liked.
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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, February 28, 2012

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