Member Poem

Touch the walls when you come in

Feel the years on your tips

The coarse existence of dry humour wall

Put up to keep the heat in

Feel your feet on the hard to understand wood

Take the necessary steps to come to a conclusion

Find the soft focus cushion on our hungover couch

From nights of drunken conversations

In front of the caffeinated table

Used for mug shots of espresso

And content faces

Look back at the front forgotten door

As you contemplate the whereabouts of the wandering washroom

Complete with a shake it off sink

Where you can rid yourself

Of that cold shoulder coat

And take off the make me mask

Observe the exposed broken sense of self-worth brick

As you make your way into the bewilderment bedroom

Seat yourself at the move-me-not mattress

Lie down onto the ponder pillow

And think yourself a dream

Under the conspiracy comforter

That plots your sleep patterns

When morning comes

Turn on your let-me-live lights

Watch as they flicker with first comes and first serves

Touch the walls when you walk out

take the years at your tips

The coarse existence of rebellious blue tints

And bolstered red hues

Under a world of why not white lights

That you call home

Close the front forget-me-not door

Turn the keep-away key

Remember the mantra

And leave