NOTE: i am posting this in 2 other sections
started a topic here earlier about how i was scared of the way things could turn out for me, at school yesterday i wrote a poem about this deep and dormant... (for lack of a better word) phobia of mine, tell me what you think, not just a rating please, an opinion, too:
THE FUTURE
in my brain
there is alot.
files of memories,
files of thought.
for each idea,
there is a door.
of which each day,
i open more and more.
but every day,
i dread and dread.
the day i open,
the door of red.
the door that lacks
a cozy room
of which a theory
will always loom.
the door that hides
a hallway, new.
the doors in there,
are futures, soon.
i smile each day,
for the door is locked,
but every day,
closer, i walk.
every day,
i yell at me
the reason is:
i kept the key
but now i see
why it stays
if it didn't
there would be no future days.
the reason the door
is what i hate,
is because something there
holds my fate.
it doesn't show my fear directly, but it came pretty close. the last stanza isn't true, what i hate that is behind those future doors in the hallway behind the door of red, is that some of the future doors may not hold a good thing. i took an artistic lisence of myself...
EDIT: question, should i submit this poem to the writing and poetry?