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by
Eliot
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Poems
Oct 2018
11:11
Where wishes are made
To be more popular, more pretty,
All manner of desirable things.
A tradition
Created by adolescents,
In a need to fulfill their dreams.
Quick to believe open lies,
Always eager to believe
Your empty, fragile promises.
1:11, this vision fades,
A mere 2 hours
Is all it takes.
One begins to realize
The emptiness of dreams
In the presence of the nightmare.
The nightmare,
Which is always there,
Residing in the darkness at the back of the mind.
This was me, long ago.
Now I reside in a deeper, darker time,
In the world of 2:22.
I live in a world unlike any other,
Where ghouls and ghosts
Constantly live.
And traumatize these nights.
Just some random, late-night thoughts.
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