Welcome to My Poetry Site
47,572 poems read
“The Man”
The pressure
in his head
at times was
unbearable
like a vice
clamped around
his forehead
having it twisted
a 1/4 –turn
at a time
and when he
finally thinks
it can’t get
anymore painful
then bad timing
comes around
and takes
another pull
on the handle
and all his
soft and warm
thoughts
feel like their
dripping out
his nose and ears,
he wages
an imaginary war
against
what he sees
as very real
threats,
though
he is the
only one
who sees them,
are enemies
that are falsely
perceived
any less fearful
then those
camping on your
doorstep
not a question
he would ponder
his battles are
very real
how else could
his most guarded
protected secrets
end up stolen
and used against
him
how are they
getting inside
his head
is there a
traitor
a spy,
is one of his
most trusted thoughts
leaking out
classified information?
He would ask
for help
but who would
listen to him
and if they did
listen to him
would he believe
what they told
him,
he rolls out
a couple of
dirty blankets
a 4x6 foot
claim of space
on a sidewalk
that he’ll call
home
for the day
with a skinny dog
sitting on his
right side
helping him through
his life
of fantasy and
reality
with fantasy
by far
taking up
the most territory
in his over
analyzed
but very little
understood
world,
a small boy
gets away
from his mother
runs to the dog
and gives it
a few light pats
on the head
his unsure eyes
glancing up
at the man
for approval
the man softly
looks down
at the boy
his face
telling both boy
and dog
its ok
without speaking
a word
as mother spies
her runaway child
calling him back
to her side
the boy
gives the dog
a few
very quick strokes
before heading
for mom,
but even as
this warm moment
is washing over
him
he gets a sudden
feeling
of peril
his safety
for whatever
reason
is calling for
action,
he hurriedly
rolls up his
blankets
stuffs his gear
into a large
canvas bag
throws it over
his shoulder
as both he
and the dog
start to make
their way
down the street
the dog
trotting
five feet in front
of him
with the pride
of a lion
the man
still searching for
that unknown
something
or running from
that well seen
enemy
depending on the
day
or the battle
but he’s
never more
than
a few feet
away
from the man
he use to
be…
Tom Allen…09-27-2017…
The pressure
in his head
at times was
unbearable
like a vice
clamped around
his forehead
having it twisted
a 1/4 –turn
at a time
and when he
finally thinks
it can’t get
anymore painful
then bad timing
comes around
and takes
another pull
on the handle
and all his
soft and warm
thoughts
feel like their
dripping out
his nose and ears,
he wages
an imaginary war
against
what he sees
as very real
threats,
though
he is the
only one
who sees them,
are enemies
that are falsely
perceived
any less fearful
then those
camping on your
doorstep
not a question
he would ponder
his battles are
very real
how else could
his most guarded
protected secrets
end up stolen
and used against
him
how are they
getting inside
his head
is there a
traitor
a spy,
is one of his
most trusted thoughts
leaking out
classified information?
He would ask
for help
but who would
listen to him
and if they did
listen to him
would he believe
what they told
him,
he rolls out
a couple of
dirty blankets
a 4x6 foot
claim of space
on a sidewalk
that he’ll call
home
for the day
with a skinny dog
sitting on his
right side
helping him through
his life
of fantasy and
reality
with fantasy
by far
taking up
the most territory
in his over
analyzed
but very little
understood
world,
a small boy
gets away
from his mother
runs to the dog
and gives it
a few light pats
on the head
his unsure eyes
glancing up
at the man
for approval
the man softly
looks down
at the boy
his face
telling both boy
and dog
its ok
without speaking
a word
as mother spies
her runaway child
calling him back
to her side
the boy
gives the dog
a few
very quick strokes
before heading
for mom,
but even as
this warm moment
is washing over
him
he gets a sudden
feeling
of peril
his safety
for whatever
reason
is calling for
action,
he hurriedly
rolls up his
blankets
stuffs his gear
into a large
canvas bag
throws it over
his shoulder
as both he
and the dog
start to make
their way
down the street
the dog
trotting
five feet in front
of him
with the pride
of a lion
the man
still searching for
that unknown
something
or running from
that well seen
enemy
depending on the
day
or the battle
but he’s
never more
than
a few feet
away
from the man
he use to
be…
Tom Allen…09-27-2017…