PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

The Movie Theatre


The world, the

Movie I watch

I see before my

Eyes is too

Horrific to watch,

So in fear, I 

Look away

 

And I am 

Transported into

A room, no,

A world I've

Created with

My own hands

A world with

Movie screens

That surround me

With their arms

At four corners

 

The crystal raindrops

Nourish my body

And as I live

In a movie screen,

Slinging guns

And riding horses,

I try to obtain

The crystal raindrops,

 

Making it my

Daily goal to

Do so. 

 

But before I 

Could carry out

My plans, the

Four screens that

Surround me, 

Suddenly choke me

With their loving 

Arms,

And a man on 

A horse, with a 

Shotgun in his hand,

 

Breaks open the 

Screen, and hits

A bullseye in

My heart,

And as I fall

Down,

Dying from the 

Wound that has

Created a hole in

My heart, 

I see the crystal

Raindrops once more,

Reaching out to 

Them,

 

But it's in my

Bloodied hands that

They melt away,

Dissolving from their

Acidic wounds. 

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Ronstoppable98

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.